


There's Nothing Like Southside

by TheWeaverofWorlds



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Eventual Gallavich, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Hate to Love, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Romance, Smut, Sweet Home Alabama AU, consenual blowjobs, domestic AU, lots of swearing, mickey/ian smut, oc/ian smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4237977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeaverofWorlds/pseuds/TheWeaverofWorlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian is engaged to Linus.  Only problem is that he's already married to Mickey back in Chicago. But when Ian returns home for a divorce, he realizes that maybe things aren't quiet as bad as he thought they were. In fact there are some unresolved feelings between Mickey and him, and Ian is forced to choose between his past love and his current boyfriend.</p><p>Loosely based on the movie Sweet Home Alabama, only way more gay.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sprinklers had just come on, and even though they weren't supposed to be there, Ian felt safe beside Mickey inside the worn down dug out.

 

“Come on, why would you want to marry me anyhow?” the dark haired ten year old asked.

 

“So I could kiss you anytime that I want,” Ian said, leaning in.

 

“Kiss me, and I'll cut your fucking tongue out,” the other boy teased running out into the sprinklers. Ian smiled, and couldn't help but to chase after him.

 

-

 

Ian jolted awake. The dream had felt so real, he knew that once upon a time it had been. Mickey and him... but that was a long time ago. He shook himself awake, going over to join his editor and publicist at their computers. Ian had gotten out of Southside, and made his way to New York where he had become an up and coming writer.

 

“Ian, this book will make your career,” his publicist sighed, noticing that he was up. “Where did you get such wonderful ideas?”

 

Ian blushed, fumbling at his wrinkled suit. His book wasn't too different from the life he had had growing up...only it had a happy ending... But if he had told anyone in his New York life that that was what it was like growing up in Canaryville they would say he was exaggerating...and he was...sorta.

 

“I'm sure Mr. McBryan is very tired,” his editor reprimanded. “It's been a long week for us all. We should get some rest before the interview.”

 

Ian couldn't help but agree, and soon was saying goodbye to his amazing team. He caught a taxi back to his apartment, where he was greeted with a room full of roses. On every surface were roses in every color. Their vibrant colors brought life to the room, and without a doubt in his mind, Ian knew who they were from. Pulling out his phone, he saw that he had one missed call from Linus.

 

“Hey, babe. I know how stressed you are about your book release, but you're going to be amazing! There's a rose for each moment I thought about you. I love you, and I'll see you at the club.”

 

Ian smirked. What had he done for his life to get so good? He caught a few hours of sleep, before heading to the club, where the party was at. His publicist, Andrea, had rented out the place and invited all sorts of famous authors and critics...and Ian couldn't help but be nervous. As soon as he arrived he was surrounded by famous bloggers and writers, as well as some very prestigious members of the press. There were hundreds of questions being thrown at him, some of which Andrea deflected gracefully, and others which Ian tried to answer for himself. It would be a lie to say that he didn't feel relieved when he saw a tall dark haired man making his way towards him.

 

“Linus!” Ian cried, going over to meet him. “I'm so glad you could make it.”

 

Linus beamed. “For you anything.”

 

And suddenly the press stopped asking questions about his book, and started asking questions about their relationship. It took awhile, but soon enough Ian and Linus made their way to a booth where they could get some privacy.

 

“So have you thought about my offer?” asked Linus.

 

“Christmas in Ireland sounds wonderful-” Ian started.

 

“But?”

 

“Well I dunno. It just seems a bit extravagant,” Ian shrugged.

 

“I always thought you wanted to see Ireland. You're family is from there and all,” Linus said taking his boyfriend's hand.

 

Ian swallowed. Linus was right, Ian McBryan was from Ireland. But ever since that weird dream he had, and all the questions about his book, he couldn't help but think more and more about Southside. “Right...I've just been so distracted by this book.”

 

Linus turned Ian's hand over in his and kissed his palm. “I know sweetheart. I'll go get us some drinks.”

 

Ian smiled as he watched Linus go, and was surprised to see his best friend drop into the empty seat.

 

“Christmas in Ireland? Ooh sounds like things are getting serious!”

 

“Kira, what have we said about eavesdropping?” Ian laughed.

 

The girl rolled her eyes. “He's totally going to propose to you.”

 

“You think?”

 

Kira laughed, shaking her head. “Ian, that boy is so in love with you. And if you don't say yes, I will.”

 

Ian nodded, laughing as well. “Go, before he gets back.”

 

“See you, McBryan,” she said with a wink.

 

Ian was still smiling when Linus returned with two flutes of champagne.

 

“Missed you,” Ian said leaning in.

 

“Did you?”

 

“Mm, yeah.” Ian said kissing the other man.

 

Linus pulled away. “Let's not start anything we can't finish.”

 

Ian smirked. “What, you too tired to handle all this?”

 

“Well we do have my mother's charity brunch tomorrow-”

 

Ian groaned. He had almost forgotten that he had agreed to go with Linus to his mother's awful charity gala the next morning. “Can't we just skip?”

 

Linus tutted gently, “I don't think the mayor of New York would be too pleased if her son skipped her gala.”

 

Ian sighed. “Alright. I was just really looking forward to having a night together.”

 

Linus gave him a sad smile. Because of their crazy schedules, it had been weeks since they had last had sex. “I know babe, soon. I have an early meeting tomorrow, but I'll send a car to pick you up. Alright?”

 

Ian sighed, nodding.

 

“See you tomorrow,” Linus got up, and pecked Ian on the cheek.

 

Ian gave a small smile before staring down into his champagne. What he wouldn't give for a beer right now...

 

“Why are you looking so glum?” Kira asked, joining her friend once more.

 

“God, this damn book has been such a cockblock, and now there's this damn charity brunch that we need to go to so Linus doesn't feel like he can spend the night,” Ian growled.

 

“Rough, how long's it been?” asked Kira.

 

“Month and a half.”

 

Kira let out a low whistle. “Jesus, you need to get laid.”

 

Ian tipped his head and gave her a look that screamed ya think? “I always thought that being in a solid relationship meant that you didn't have to wait so long in between fucks.”

 

Kira sighed. “C'mon, Linus must be better than all those one night stands you used to have.”

 

Ian flushed. Kira may be his best friend, but they had never really talked much about the logistics of his sex life. “I mean he's fine. It's a bit vanilla, but-”

 

“You kinky boy, Ian McBryan!” exclaimed Kira. “But for real, Linus is a hot piece of ass-”

 

Ian laughed. “I know, I know. I adore his ass, and his abs, and his dick and-”

 

Kira covered her ears. “Alright. I get it. Let's stop talking about what you two do in bed.”

 

Ian slouched down. The party would be over soon, and it was already getting late. “I should go.”

 

“Ditching your own party?” Kira asked.

 

“Something like that. I have things I need to do at home,” Ian explained.

 

Kira nodded. “What should I tell them if they notice you're gone?”

 

“Make something up. Whatever you want,” Ian said standing to go.

 

“Alright, I'll tell them you're having mad bathroom sex with a stranger-”

 

“Kira!”

 

“Kidding!” The girl had the audacity to laugh. “Go do your lame boring shit. I'll see you soon.”

 

Ian nodded and managed to leave the party. Once he got home he took his meds and went off to bed. He wasn't usually so reckless when it came to his pills, but in the past 24 hours he had been a bit preoccupied. He had been so focused on getting everything ready that he had forgotten to take them in the morning, which had left him feeling a bit off all day. Perhaps that would explain the dream he had had, although right now he was trying to forget all about it. He intended to sleep off the tremors, and be fully rested for when he would have to deal with Linus' mother. Damn, that woman was a bitch.

 

-

 

Ian got up early, went for a run, took his meds, got into a shower, and was dressed to go before 8 o'clock. By 8:15 a car pulled up and Ian recognized Linus' driver, Max.

 

“How's it going?” Ian asked.

 

“Alright, Mr. McBryan. Mr. Carlisle is in a meeting, but he asked that you wait for him,” Max explained, pulling up to what looked like a loading dock. Ian was ushered in, where he was greeted by Linus' personal assistant.

 

“Ah, Mr. McBryan. Mr. Carlisle has requested you come this way.”

 

Ian frowned. The building was dark, except for emergency lights. He was led down a long hallway, towards a set of doors where Linus was waiting.

 

“Linus, what's going on?” asked Ian.

 

“So my offer. Christmas in Ireland, maybe 200 or 400 people?”

 

“For Christmas?” Ian asked, as Linus took his arms and led him through the doors.

 

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of our wedding,” Linus said. Ian could tell he was smiling.

 

“Our what?”

 

And then Linus was kneeling down. “Ian McBryan, will you marry me.”

 

Lights clicked on, and Ian found himself in the midst of a jewelry store, attendants standing behind all the cases...and the man he loved on his knee before him. Ian caught the words Tiffany and Co. printed on teal boxes, and again he looked into Linus' brown eyes.

 

“Are you sure? I mean you can still-”

 

Linus stood up, putting his hand on Ian's neck. “I never ask a question I don't know the answer to. Now Ian, at the chance of being rejected twice, I'm gonna ask you again. Will you marry me?”

 

Ian grinned. “Yes. Of course.”

 

Linus kissed him chastely, before pulling away. “Pick whichever one you want, darling.”

 

As if trained for those words, the employees began to pull out row upon row of rings, setting them so that Ian could make his choice.

 

-

 

Ian had chosen a simple wide silver band, with a single diamond in the center. He couldn't stop kissing Linus' on the neck as they drove to meet with his mother. He was so happy. On cloud nine really, until he heard what Linus was saying.

 

“We should call your parents, let them know the good news,” Linus said tugging at his pocket to pull his phone out.

 

Ian froze. He hadn't exactly told Linus about how broken his family was, Frank always on a bender and Monica living somewhere else. “I think this is the sort of news they would want to hear in person. I was actually thinking of flying back home to tell them.”

 

“To Chicago? Want me to come?” asked Linus.

 

“No! I mean, yes of course I do, but it's been five years. I think I need to go talk to them first you know? Clear the air a bit?” Ian asked.

 

Linus nodded. “You know I have to meet them sometime.”

 

Ian pulled away. “I know. I just want them to be prepared...not to just show up with a fiance in tow and just surprise them. If that makes sense.”

 

“Of course it does, babe.” Linus kissed Ian on the temple.

 

“So for now, can we just keep it under wraps?” Ian asked tentatively.

 

Linus nodded. “Alright.”

 

Ian sighed. “Thanks.”

 

The car pulled to a stop. “Ready to face her?”

 

Ian tensed up again. Mayor Anna Carlisle was a tough old woman, who scared the living shit out of Ian. He wasn't sure that she actually approved of Ian, although he knew she was fine with her son being gay. He figured it was probably because she didn't think a writer was good enough for her son...but then again she never seemed to think anyone was good enough for Linus...

 

“Hey, babe. Are we good?” Linus asked.

 

Ian nodded, and felt himself being tugged out of the safety of the limo. He was immediately blinded by the flash of the press, and deafened by their questions. His sole comfort was Linus' hand in his.

 

“Linus, darling!” Anna cried out, pulling her son into a hug. “Is there anything going on that I should know about?”

 

Linus answered her hushed question through his teeth, “not at all.”

 

Anna turned to Ian. “And Ian! How lovely to see you again.”

 

Her grip tightened on his left hand, there was a panicked look in her eye. She pulled up his hand, exposing it to the press.

 

“You're engaged?!”

 

There was no hiding it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking how well this story would work for gallavich, and I decided I just had to write it! Let me know what you think in the comments. ~T.W.o.W.


	2. Chapter 2

“You little bitch!”

 

Ian was on the phone with Kira. “Sorry! We wanted to keep it quiet.”

 

“And yet I had to find out with the rest of New York, through the society pages,” Kira teased.

 

“Yeah his mom kinda made a scene out of it all,” Ian sighed, turning his focus back to the road.

 

“Hey, I'm down at that cafe you love. C'mon down and you can tell me all about the proposal! I want details, Ian,” Kira said sipping her coffee.

 

“Can't.”

 

“Why? You in the middle of thanking Linus with your body?” the girl laughed.

 

Ian smirked. “Yeah I wish. I'm in Chicago.”

 

“Oh god. Best of luck.” Kira didn't know how much Ian was going to need it.

 

After the gala Ian had returned home to find that his phone was full of voice mails from different magazines and newspapers. After dealing with the press the best he could, he was exhausted and decided to call it an early night. The following day he packed a small overnight bag, he was going home. In the back of his closet he found an old hoodie and a pair of torn skinny jeans. It had been awhile since he had been to Canaryville, but he knew better than to show up in a button down and tie. The twelve and a half hour drive had given him plenty of time to think just what he was going to say to his 'husband'.

 

Soon enough Ian began to recognize his neighborhood. He passed under the L getting closer and closer to the Milkovich home. Ian didn't have time to be nervous, or to consider how late in the evening it was. Confidently he got out of the car and made his way to the front porch. He wasn't surprised to see Mickey sitting on the steps smoking a joint.

 

“Mickey,” he called out.

 

“Do I know you, fucker?” In five years Mickey's tone hadn't change. “Look, I don't sell that shit anymore. If you're looking for a dealer, try any other street corner.”

 

Ian didn't have time to let the words sink in as he pulled off his hood. “It's Ian. And I want a divorce.”

 

Mickey stubbed out his joint before standing up and coming down the stairs. “Gallagher? Thought you disappeared to have a fancy real life in New York. Been five years. Least you could do is say hi, ask how everyone's been.”

 

“Mick. Sign the damn papers.” Ian was tired from the drive, tired of having this conversation for years...or not having it. He had sent Mickey the papers several times, each time they had been mailed back unsigned. “And don't pretend you've missed me.”

 

Mickey was close, and Ian could smell the pot on his breath. “Oh I missed you, but at this range my aim is bound to improve.”

 

Ian rolled his eyes at the cheeky smirk on Mickey's lips. “You always were a thug.”

 

“Southside, born and raised. But then again, so were you. Once upon a time.” Mickey said still not getting out of Ian's space.

 

“I got out,” Ian said coolly.

 

Mickey backed away, hands raised, and started heading back into the house.

 

“Where do you think you're going?”

 

“Leaving. I think you're familiar with the gesture.” Mickey said icily.

 

Ian sighed. “Look, it's late. Just sign the papers and then I can go home.”

 

“Home? What do you know about home? Does Fi know you're here?” Mickey asked already knowing the answer.

 

“No, she doesn't. And it's none of your business how I deal with my family, Mick!” Ian huffed.

 

Mickey glared at him. “They're my family too. Course I didn't abandon them.”

 

“Ugh! I got out. Can't you just be happy for me?” Ian hissed.

 

“Visit Fi, Ian. She'd love to see you,” Mickey said. “Then maybe we'll talk.”

 

Ian watched Mickey go inside, closing the door behind him. “Ugh!” he screamed not caring if the neighbors heard. “You fucker! The only reason you aren't signing these papers is because I want you to!”

 

Mickey turned on his heel, still glaring at Ian. “I'm not signing until you get your fancy New Yorker ass over to see your family. Aight, Gallagher? And yeah, when you act like a little bitch it makes me want to PISS YOU OFF!”

 

Mickey slammed the door on Ian, and he could here the bolt click. It didn't take long for Ian to find the spare key they had hidden away for the days Ian was out working and had forgotten a key. It happened often enough when he was manic, and because of his strange working hours it was easier to have an extra key laying about than to try and wake up Mickey. Ian entered his old home to see that little had changed. There was still the lumpy sofa with the stained blanket in the middle of the living room. Beer bottles littered nearly every surface, and one would assume that Terry or Mickey's other brothers were still living at home...although Ian knew that that wasn't exactly true...And then there was Mickey, standing in the kitchen having a beer...It was a familiar sight, and Ian almost felt nostalgia creeping in.

 

“Next time you try and lock someone out, make sure they don't know where the spare key is,” Ian said.

 

Mickey's brows furrowed as he turned to look at Ian. “If my husband had just told me where he hid it-”

 

“Husband?” Ian sounded disgusted. “We were just fuck buddies that got married too young.”

 

A look crossed Mickey's face that Ian couldn't read. So the redhead continued. “My meds have me stabilized. I'm not that boy anymore.”

 

Ian pulled out the papers. But Mickey backed away, retreating into his room. And Ian was left alone to think. And then there was that familiar sound that any Southside boy new to run from, police sirens. Ian could see the blue and red lights stopping outside the Milkovich home.

 

“Shit! You called the cops on me?” Ian asked.

 

Mickey was back, a bag of chips in his hand. He raised his eyebrows, eating the food slowly. He sauntered over to the door opening it.

 

“Evening Mr. Milkovich, what seems to be the problem?”

 

“Tony?”

 

“Ian Gallagher? What are you doing back in town? Have you seen Fiona yet?” the kind officer asked, a smile ever present on his face.

 

Ian shook his head.

 

“Ay, Markovich, be a bit more professional. I called you didn't I?” Mickey said, keeping his distance.

 

Tony sighed. “Ian you can't just break into people's houses...”

 

“I didn't break in. I used a key. My key.” Ian explained, holding it out to show the officer.

 

Tony looked torn. “It's not your house, Ian. I'm sorry but I'm going to have to escort you-”

 

“Use the cuffs, he likes that,” Mickey said, his mouth full of chips.

 

“Tony, get him to sign my papers and I'll leave,” Ian said getting the papers from the table.

 

“Ay, pig, that's none of your concerns. Aight? It's between me and Firecrotch,” Mickey started protesting.

 

Tony took them and began to read. “These are divorce papers. If you're still married, then it's Ian's house too. Nothing but a domestic argument.”

 

Mickey let out a groan. “Look I called you instead of taking a bat to his head-”

 

“He hasn't hit you. Cause if he has I can-”

 

“No Tony, he hasn't hit me,” Ian sighed.

 

“-so you need to get him out of my house,” Mickey continued.

 

Tony sighed. “You two have got a lot to work out. I'm just going to leave you to it.”

 

“Tony there's got to be something you can do,” Mickey complained.

 

“The law is the law-”

 

Mickey's eyebrows shot towards his hairline. “Who do you think was drinking at the Alibi since the age of twelve?”

 

“We all did that. And I paid for my drinks, unlike somebody,” Ian said.

 

“Public indecency? Fourth of July couple years back? Totally him.”

 

Ian snorted, “You were with me, dumbass. No way I would've been making those noises by myself.”

 

“Aight, what about that outstanding warrant for a stolen water heater?” Mickey smirked, knowing he had won.

 

Tony sighed. “Sorry, Ian.”

 

Ian let the officer cuff him, hating the grin that Mickey was now sporting. He was taken down to the station where he was processed.

 

“Look we're only going to hold you overnight,” explained Tony. “It was a long time ago...you were a kid.”

 

Ian sighed. “Yeah alright.”

 

“And Ian?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Call Fiona. She'd really like to know you were in town.”

 

And Ian spent the night thinking. So many if onlys flooded through his mind. If only he weren't bipolar...that would simplify a lot of things. If only he hadn't gotten married at 18....that would simplify things too. If only he had gotten into the army...but then he wouldn't have met Linus, so maybe it was a good thing he hadn't gotten into West Point. Linus was good for him. He was like the medicine that Ian took everyday. He was a constant in Ian's life, supporting him and helping him remain in balance. He was glad to have someone like Linus in his life, he knew it had taken years for Fiona to find someone like that. Just thinking about his family made him realize how much he missed them. When morning came, Ian was released. Taking his phone he dialed a number he hadn't used in a very long time.

 

“Ian? Is everything alright?” Fiona was always one to worry first and get angry later.

 

“Hey Fi.” Ian choked a bit. “I'm back.”

 

“Back?”

 

“In Chicago.”

 

He could hear her scream. “That's great! You need a place to stay? I'm sure we can find a bed for you here, unless you'd prefer to stay with Mick-”

 

“There sounds lovely,” Ian assured.

 

He could hear Fiona's smile through the phone. “When will you be gettin' in? I'll have some food ready for ya.”

 

“Couple minutes. I'm coming from the precinct,” Ian felt blush bloom across his cheeks.

 

“Ian? What did you do to get yourself thrown in jail already?” Fi asked, partially serious and partially joking.

 

Ian smiled. “Just Mickey and his big mouth.”

 

Fiona sighed. “It'll be nice to have you back, kiddo.”

 

Ian couldn't help but agree.

 

It wasn't long before he was pulling up in front of his childhood home. Not a lot changed. Standing on the porch smoking was Fi. It had been five years since he had last seen her, and she looked good. She didn't seem as tired looking as she was in all his memories of her. There was a smile on her lips, and god did she look pretty that way. If it were up to Ian she would always be smiling.

 

“Hey you,” she said softly as he came up the path. “It's been awhile, huh?”

 

And that's when Ian ran into her arms. He had missed her more than he realized. “There's a lot I need to tell you,” he confessed.

 

Fi rubbed his back. “There's time for that. We've got time.”

 

And Ian was ushered back into the chaotic mess of what it meant to be a Gallagher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone who took the time to read this. To the people who commented: I love you guys thanks so much! It means a lot. I really love this story rn and am feeling super inspired. So please leave a kudos or comment and let me know how you think it's going! And don't worry there's going to be a whole lot more gallavich coming up. Love you loads ~T.W.o.W.


	3. Chapter 3

Fiona gave him some time to shower and change his clothes, and by the time Ian made it downstairs, breakfast was on the table. At first glance nothing had changed. There were still the mismatched chairs and piles of dishes by the sink. On the fridge were post-it note reminders of bills that needed to be paid, and errands to be done. But things had changed. The boy at the table was no longer a toddler in a highchair. And at the end of the table sat Fiona’s husband drinking a coffee and talking to her about the newspaper. It seemed so intimate, and Ian felt like an intruder in his own home. He knew they meant no harm by it, but he felt out of place and awkward...things in Southside hadn't stopped because he was gone. That idea was certainly going to take some getting used to.

 

“Hey guys,” Ian said clearing his throat.

 

“Ian!” Liam leapt up from his chair and ran to give his older brother a hug. He had only been five when Ian left, but the child was still eager to show affection towards his brother.

 

Fiona looked up at him, her eyes bright. “We’re so glad you’re back in town.”

 

“Good to see you, Ian,” Gus said, setting aside his newspaper.

 

Ian made his way over to the table as Fiona began setting out a plate and some food for him.

 

“Lip tells us you got a book coming out soon,” Fiona said.

 

Ian nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“My brother a famous author...if he didn’t use a pen name,” giggled Fiona.

 

“McBryan, Scottish isn’t it?” Gus asked.

 

“Yeah..what?”

 

“Anyway everyone’s real excited for it to come out,” Fiona interrupted. “Course once it does, maybe you’ll have more time to come visit your family.”

 

“Fiona,” chided Gus softly. “Writers often have to go on tour and do interviews and stuff…” He sounded like they had discussed this already.

 

“I know. It’s just we don’t get to see you much,” Fiona sighs.

 

Ian looked over at his sister. “Why didn’t you ever come visit. I sent plane tickets for Christmas, and before that for Thanksgiving.”

 

“Ian,” Fiona started delicately, “you know it’s hard for me to get away from work. We don’t have that kind of money to go to New York.”

 

Ian huffed. “I know, but…”

 

“Ian we would have loved to visit, but what about your other siblings? Surely you couldn’t afford to host all of them,” Gus said earnestly.

 

Ian looked down, ashamed. In truth he had sent plane tickets to all his siblings at different times throughout the past five years but none of them had taken him up on his offer. They had valid reasons such as school or work...but still Ian had missed them more than he realized. He missed the home cooked food from Aldi, and the warmth and intimacy of the dining room table. So many memories had been made here. Good and bad.

 

“Thanks for the food, Fi. There's some errands I need to run,” Ian said grabbing his coat.

 

“You'll be back, right? Unless you're going to go see Mick-”

 

“I'll be back,” he assured her.

 

Once outside his childhood home Ian felt his head clear a bit. Everything had become so muddled in there. He had almost forgotten why he had left in the first place. The memories of that table were strong. Like when he first introduced Mickey as his boyfriend...and then fiance. All those announcements had been made in the presence of that table surrounded by all the people he loved. It was like ghost were haunting him. The sooner he got his divorce, the sooner he would be able to leave Chicago and get back to New York, back to Linus.

 

Ian shook his head and started walking to the bank. His car was still at Mickey's. It didn't take long for him to get there and when he did he was in for a nasty surprise. The ATM that had been out there long as he could remember was gone. He entered the bank and filled out a withdrawal slip before going to wait in line. When it was his turn to go speak to the teller he asked, “What happened to the ATM?”

 

“You haven't heard? Thought everybody knew,” the woman said excitedly.

 

“Been away for awhile,” Ian confessed.

 

“We had to get rid of it. One of those Milkovich boys found a way to hack it so that it would dispense money at the drop of a hat,” she continued excitedly.

 

“Mickey...?” sighed Ian, almost afraid of the answer.

 

The girl giggled nervously. “Oh no. Mr. Milkovich is one of our loyal customers. It was his brother Tony.”

 

Ian just nodded handing over his slip.

 

“Are you sure you don't want to make the withdrawal from your joint account, Mr. Gallagher?” she asked.

 

“What?”

 

“Your joint account...with Mr. Milkovich?” she asked looking up from her computer screen.

 

Ian let the words fall into place, a smile on his lips. “That would be great.”

 

Ian found himself busy the rest of the day. By noon he was returning to the Milkovich home and was unsurprised to find it empty. He assumed that Mick was at a bar, or scamming people...and honestly he didn't care. The privacy would give him time to get the job done. He began by throwing out all the empty beer bottles as well as the layer of filth that covered the floor. By three the first of the deliveries arrived, a new couch and armchair for the living room and later came the new bed with its mattress for upstairs. There were sheets and dishes that needed to find new homes as Ian threw the old junk into the yard, sure that someone would pick it up at some point. The house was completely refurnished, the kitchen was freshly stocked and everything had its place.

 

Oddly enough, during the cleaning process, Ian hadn't found Mickey's stash of illegal guns and firearms. Nor had he found any large stashes of drugs, just a few empty cigarette cartons and a joint or two. He brushed his curiosity away, reasoning that surely the Milkoviches had just found a better place to secure their illegal possessions. 

 

Finally a little after five Ian heard the door open, and he knew that his husband was home.

 

“The fuck is all my shit doing outside,” Mickey's voice could be heard from the hall, and then he stepped into his new living room.

 

“Hey Mick,” Ian said brightly. “How's everyone doing?”

 

“The fuck is wrong with you, Gallagher? Are you off your meds again?” Mickey asked, watching as Ian puttered about the kitchen.

 

“I'm stable, thank you very much. I haven't been off my meds in five years, and I don't plan on going off them any time soon,” Ian said curtly.

 

“So again. Why is all my stuff in yard? What's this junk doing here?” Mickey asked, losing patience quickly.

 

“Now, Mick, what kind of spouse would I be if I didn't take care of our home while you're out selling drugs and the like,” Ian said cocking his head and falsely pouting.

 

Mickey opened his mouth, closed it, and stomped away only to come back. “You don't live here anymore. Now get me the spare key, and get out!”

 

Ian rolled his eyes. “I just got back.”

 

Mickey brushed past him to open up the fridge. Inside of it were all kinds of fancy organic products that Mickey could barely recognize let alone name. “What is this, queer food?”

 

“Mickey, might I remind you that you too are gay,” Ian sighed.

 

“What the hell is this!?” Mickey savagely pulled out a silver can from the pile.

 

“Light beer. Less calories,” Ian sighed. “If you aren't careful Mick, you'll get a beer gut which will make it harder for you to run away from the cops...and we wouldn't want that.”

 

“You go right ahead and spend your money on this crap,” Mickey said, ignoring the comment about running from the cops. He didn't do that anymore.

 

“Nice try, Mick. It's our money,” Ian said pretending to be innocent. “After all you were the one who suggested we get a joint checking account.”

 

Mickey choked on his drink. He coughed before asking hoarsely, “how much did you take?”

 

“All of it.”

 

“Jesus! Ian are you sure you aren't on your meds, cause you're acting pretty crazy to me!” Mickey screamed.

 

“How dare you?” growled Ian. He knew they were both thinking about that time not so long ago when he had stolen luggage from the airport or when he had done porn for cash just to blow it all the next day. “I've been careful, Mickey. I'm not that boy anymore, and that you would think I am makes me sick. Another reason we should get a divorce. Sign the papers, and I'll return the money and the furniture. Then you can keep living your shitty ghetto life.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Give me the pen,” Mickey said hands outstretched.

 

“Hold on. What are you doing with all the cash? And in the bank too?” Ian asked eyes narrowing. “Even when you were a dealing you never had that kind of cash. Hell when you were a pimp you were never that load. What have you been doing, Mickey?”

 

“I'm not asking you about your fancy queer, New Yorker boyfriend or your life there, so what makes you think you can ask me about mine?” Mickey asked.

 

Ian's heart stopped. It felt as if all the air in the room had been sucked out. “Who told you?”

 

“Just cause I never finished high school doesn't make me an idiot,” Mickey said, grabbing the papers from Ian's hand.

 

“Mickey, let me explain-”

 

“Nobody finds their soulmate when their ten years old,” scoffed Mickey. “Not in this neighborhood.”

 

“Yeah,” Ian swallowed uncomfortably.

 

“I mean where's the fun in that?” Mickey said raising one of his eyebrows, a smirk on his lips. And suddenly Ian was reminded of everything good between them. Because for a time, things had been really good.

 

And suddenly the smirk became a grin. “Just remembered, I got myself a hot date. I'll deal with these tomorrow. Maybe send them over to my lawyer so he can look at them.”

 

“What?”

 

“Sure you understand. Nothing but ghetto trash....there are words in that document I can even pronounce, besides I'd hate to keep him waiting.” Mickey said flicking his tonuge across his lips. It was a gesture that Ian was very familiar with, and once it had even managed to spark lust for the other man in the pits of his stomach. But watching it now, knowing that Mickey was going out with someone else made Ian feel confused. So much must have changed if Mickey was going on a date, here in Southside. The boy who was afraid to kiss Ian in public, or private, because word might get back to his homophobic father was now openly gay and going out on a proper date. Something he and Ian had rarely done. God, Ian needed a drink. And so he went to the only bar he loved.

 

On his way he received a call from Linus.

 

“Hey babe,” Ian murmured huskily.

 

Linus chuckled, “do you really miss me that much?”

 

“God, yes. Dealing with these people is a nightmare,” Ian whined a bit into the phone.

 

“I'm sorry, Ian. Hurry home so we can spend some time together,” Linus said.

 

Ian grinned. “So why did you call?”

 

“Wanted to hear your voice.”

 

“Anything else?” Ian asked.

 

Linus laughed again. “God, I am not fucking you through the phone, Ian. Come home and then we'll talk.”

 

“Just talk?”

 

Linus sighed. “No. You know what I mean. I'll see you soon.”

 

Ian smiled. “I needed this. Thanks, babe.”

 

In the five years he had been away, The Alibi Room was a little worse for wear, although nothing had changed. Ian found comfort in the thought as he entered the room. The regulars were seated at their respective tables or stools, including his father, Frank Gallagher.

 

“The prodigal son returns!” Frank cheered, raising his glass.

 

Ian rolled his eyes. “Hi Kev. How's Vee doing?”

 

The bartender smiled broadly. “She's doing great! So are the twins, Amy and Gemma.”

 

Ian wanted to smack himself in the head. Of course the twins! They had only been one when he left, and although he had watched them a few times he hadn't really gotten to spend much time with them.

 

“So Ian, successful fruit of my loins,” Frank began his speech.

 

“Uh he's not actually your son,” Kev interrupted.

 

“Well I raised him, didn't I!? Provided a roof over his head,” slurred the old man, “claimed him as my own even when-”

 

“Frank, I'm not giving you money,” Ian said.

 

“Bullshit. I wasn't going to ask for money,” protested Frank.

 

“Really?”

 

“Course not,” swore his father. “I just wanted to declare that my favorite son is home. He's a writer with his first novel coming out. Big success this one.”

 

Ian frowned.

 

“What can I get you,” Kev asked wiping down a glass.

 

“Long Island iced tea,” Ian said distractedly. He had spotted Mickey entering the bar with another man, and he needed to get drunk fast.

 

“Oh my god. IAN?!”

 

Ian turned just in time to see a girl with long dark hair come running at him. She pulled him into a tight hug, before releasing him and punching him in the arm. “You didn't tell me you were back, asshole!”

 

“Mandy? I thought you left for...” Ian thought back all those years to when Mandy had been a scared teenager who left home with an abusive boyfriend. “When did you get back?!”

 

“Been back for years, dummy. You would know that if you had kept in touch,” there's a sad look in her eyes.

 

“And your boyfriend?”

 

“Left him for the piece of shit he was.” Mandy said. “I can't believe you're here. God, you look good, Ian.”

 

“You too, I like seeing that you're hair is back to it's natural color,” Ian confessed.

 

Mandy laughed. “Now that I don't have a man telling me he prefers to fuck blondes, I felt like going back.”

 

“Who's that guy Mickey is with?” Ian asked gesturing to where the two of them were standing by the pool table.

 

Mandy shrugged. “Don't know. Don't think it's serious. Hey Ian, where you going-”

 

Ian, drink in hand, was going over to find out. “Mind if I join you two?”

 

“Actually, Firecrotch-”

 

“You mean the carpet matches the drapes?” Mickey's date had hipster glasses, and hair a little too slick for Ian's liking.

 

“What? Yeah.” Mickey was confused that he was interupted with such a stupid question that he forgot his retort that he had been planning to say.

 

The man whistled appreciatively. “Names Malcolm, and you are?”

 

“Hi I'm Ian, Mickey's husband whom he refuses to divorce even though I'm engaged to someone else,” Ian said in a falsely cheery voice.

 

Malcolm merely looked Ian from head to toe before saying, “can't blame him, honey. If I had something as delicious as you I would want to hold on for as long as I could.”

 

“Why don't you get us some fucking drinks.” Mickey said holding cash out. “Now, shit head.”

 

Malcolm just raised both hands in surrender before shimmying between them, making extra sure to brush up against Ian.

 

“Talk that way to all your dates?”

 

“Him?” Mickey asked. “Just someone I slept with and he won't leave me alone. Claims he likes the rough type. What fucking ever.”

 

Ian huffed. “Why do you make me be mean to you? To be humiliated in front of all your friends?”

 

“C'mon Ian. We were your friends too,” Kev says in passing. Ian felt like a deer in the headlights, but before more could be said he heard his name being cried out.

 

“Ian!?”

 

“Tony?” Ian was shocked, this was the idiot who hacked the ATM? “If it isn't the best man of the apocalypse.”

 

“And what are you trying to imply,” laughed the older Milkovich.

 

“I think you know,” Ian said dryly.

 

“Just get a stick and play,” Mickey said. “And if you can't find one just pull the one stuck up his ass.”

 

Ian's jaw dropped as he glared at Mickey. “And what if I wanted to play?” he purred after regaining his composure. “Do you boys think you could handle that?”

 

Mickey's jaw tightened a bit, as did his grip on the pool stick. “Fine, but don't expect us to go easy on you.”

 

Ian rolled his eyes, “why should I expect that? I never went easy on you when we were together.”

 

From around the circle came a collective 'oooooh'.

 

“Shots for everyone!” cried Ian looking to Kev, as everyone in the bar cheered.

 

The game continued as Ian and Mandy played against Mickey and Tony. It wasn't long before Ian was very drunk, since he had ordered multiple shots.

 

“Don't you fucking miss this, Mands, okay?” slurred Ian before bursting into giggles.

 

Mandy rolled her eyes. “It would seem you can take the boy out of the ghetto, but you can't take the ghetto out of the boy.”

 

“So, Mick, you gonna divorce this redhead or what?” Tony asked.

 

“He's waited five years. Another few nights won't kill him, unfortunately.”

 

“Not like it's gonna make a difference,” Ian snapped.

 

“You never know,” started Kev, who had come over to watch the game. “You might be surprised to learn-”

 

“Stop, Kev. Let him think what he likes,” Mickey said. “He made up his mind a long time ago. And if there's one thing I know, Gallaghers are as fucking stubborn as a mule when they've made up their mind.”

 

“Some things never change. For instance Mickey here is a Southside thug, born and raised,” Ian said. “Nothing could ever change that.”

 

The room grew tense at that, people looking back and forth between the pair, unsure what to say.

 

“Or Tony, stupid as the day is long, manages to hack an ATM,” laughs Ian. “Course Milkovichs always do whatever the fuck they like. Or who. Isn't that right Mands?”

 

Mandy frowned. “I think you should stop, Ian.”

 

“Why? Everyone here knows everything about each other. Bet you didn't know that Mickey is such a bossy, needy bottom-”

 

Mickey's eyes flashed. “That's enough, Ian. You're drunk.”

 

“Kev!” Ian cheered, as if noticing the man for the first time. “How about another round of drinks for me and my friends.”

 

“Mickey's right. I'm cutting you off, Ian.” Kev said heavily.

 

“Ya know what? You're right, Kev. I mean how do you people live like this? Did you know that there's a great big worl' just outs-”

 

Mickey sighed. “That's enough, Ian. C'mon, I'm taking you home.”

 

Mickey grabbed Ian's bicep and began to pull him away and outside. “Jesus, do you realize how much like Frank you sounded back there?”

 

Ian stumbled a bit over his own feet.

 

“Even fucking Christ knows we don't need another Frank. Shit Ian. You can't just go around acting like you're better than everyone else-”

 

“I am better.” Ian interrupted. “I got out. After I failed high school, failed the Army after all that I got a new dream, Mickey. One that took me far away from this shit hole, and yeah I am better.”

 

“They're your friends and family, Ian. You don't treat family that way. You really think you're so much better than Fiona? Or Debbie? Or Lip?” Mickey asked tightening his grip on Ian's arm.

 

“I'm better than you.”

 

Mickey froze.

 

“I'm better than Frank, and Tony and even Mandy. And I'm better than you. I got out, Mickey. I got out.”

 

Mickey sighed. “Get in my car. You're too drunk to drive like this.”

 

“Guess the dates over, huh, tough guy,” Malcolm sighed coming over to Mickey.

 

“Follow us back. He's gonna be pissed tomorrow if his car isn't home.” And at that moment Ian decided to puke in Mickey's car.

 

Once they arrived at Fiona's, Mickey carried Ian up to his childhood bedroom. Not much had changed since all those years ago when Mickey spent time sleeping beside Ian on that narrow bed as he tried to recover from episode after episode of depression and mania. It hadn't been so long ago that Mickey would have stayed the night, arms curled protectively around Ian's chest as he slept....maybe things had changed. Too much.

 

For a few minutes Mickey watched Ian sleep, making sure that he wasn't about to choke. Then he got up, leaving behind him the divorce papers, his name signed clearly on the lines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omigod! I'm so sorry it took this long to upload. I was at a conference for 10 days, and had no time and when I got back I was swamped. It's extra long as an apology. Speaking of which, if there are any typos I'm sorry, but I wrote this at 2 AM so what can I say. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I hope they aren't too OOC as I am trying to fit it in with the movie's plot. Also Noel at the table read? Jesus. So yeah hope this cheers y'all up. Thanks for the support. Loads of love ~T.W.o.W.


	4. Chapter 4

Ian woke up with a pounding headache. He hadn't remembered being this hung over in a long time. Usually he avoided drinking heavily since it affected his meds, but he supposed that Mickey had always managed to bring out the reckless side of him. Yet another reason they were bad for each other. Ian began to sit up and heard papers crumple beneath his leg. Blearily he stared at them until his brain began to register what was in front of him. It was the divorce papers. And very clearly there was a signature on the page. Mickey had finally signed the papers. Papers Ian had been begging him to sign for five years. There was a stirring of nostalgia as Ian realized it was over. He was free to marry Linus as soon as he mailed these papers and they were filed. He didn't have any reason to stay now. And then the guilt came crashing down on him. All those cruel words he had directed at Mandy and even Mickey...Mickey who had been kind enough to bring him home even after he threw up in the other's car. Mick who had finally signed the goddamn papers... Ian wanted to throw up, and not just because of the hang over.

 

Somehow, Ian managed to find his way downstairs just in time to see Gus leaving for a rehearsal. He watched the older man kiss his sister on the forehead before leaving, saying some kind words under his breath. Ian smiled, he couldn't wait to have something like that when he married Linus. Then he looked over on the couch. Curled up beneath a tiny knit blanket was a sleeping Frank.

 

“Christ. How am I going to explain you to New York,” sighed Ian under his breath. “Why did you even let this drunk in anyway?”

 

Fiona turned before letting out a sigh. “He was at the Alibi til closing and refused to leave. Police dragged him back here since legally this is his house.”

 

“Fuck. I'm sorry Fiona,” Ian said.

 

Fi gave a wry smile. “I think by now I'm used to dealing with drunk Gallaghers...although it's not a very attractive trait.”

 

“Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to get so wasted,” Ian explained.

 

“Are you going to apologize?”

 

“What?”

 

Fi smiled sympathetically. “Another thing I know about Gallaghers is we aren't always so good at maintaining relationships. Vee told me some of things you said at the Alibi last night. None of it sounded good Ian.”

 

Ian's shoulders dropped even farther. “Guess it was pretty shitty of me.”

 

Fiona put her hand on his face remembering the boy she had raised. “The world doesn't need anymore Franks, Ian. Even if you chose to stay in New York.”

 

Ian nodded. Stuffing the envelope into his pocket he promised his sister he would be back later. He had some apologies to see to, but first there were a few errands. He chose to walk, because the air helped clear his head. He went back into the city stopping by both the bank and the post office. While he was there he was reminded of a conversation he had had with Gus the other day. The other man had said something about how their neighborhood was the next up and coming place? Ian highly doubted that...and yet then again as he walked through town he passed a Starbucks that hadn't been there five years ago. Not to mention a yoga studio just down the block. Gentrification at its finest. He was sure Frank hated it, which made him want to love it...but he couldn't quite bring himself to.

 

But as he approached Mickey's home he felt some apprehension grow in his stomach. No one was home, so he decided to sit on the stoop and wait for Mickey to return. It wasn't long before the other strolled up to the house. Uncertainly Ian rose.

 

“Thought you woulda left by now,” Mickey said walking past him to the front door.

 

“I put the money back in your account.”

 

“Thanks, save me the effort of bouncing a lot of checks,” Mickey said, pausing at his door.

 

Ian just nodded.

 

“I like it Firecrotch. What you did to the place,” Mickey elaborated. “Should help it sell quicker. Saves me the effort of-”

 

“You're moving?” Ian felt like the world was spinning away from him. Mickey couldn't move, he lived here in Canaryville.

 

“Been spending a lota my time in Northside, would save me the trouble of commuting on the L everyday,” Mickey shrugged. “Look, Ian, I signed your papers...”

 

“Mick. I never meant to say those awful things. I didn't mean them,” Ian said. “I was drunk, and I'm sorry. I just wanted to stop by and say thanks.”

 

“Look I gotta go,” Mickey said making as if to go into his house.

 

“You can't leave.”

 

“Sure I can,” Mickey gave him a heartbreaking smile. “I may be ghetto trash...but doesn't mean I gotta stay here my whole life. Come with me. There's something I want to show you.”

 

“I can't,” Ian replied.

 

“Can't or won't?” Mickey asked peering into Ian's eyes.

 

“Both, I guess,” Ian sighed.

 

“The boy I knew used to be fearless,” Mickey sounded nostalgic.

 

“The boy you knew didn't have a life,” Ian said a bit hotly.

 

“Better get on with it then,” Mickey said he sounded sad and resolute, and Ian wasn't sure which was worse.

 

After that Ian sent a text to Mandy asking to meet her at the Alibi. It wasn't a number he had used in years, and he just hoped that it still worked. Almost instantly a reply came in. 

 

'Sure, ten minutes?'

 

Ian replied, and began walking back to the bar where everything had gone wrong. It didn't take him long to get there, and he found Mandy seated at the bar. She looked wary and uncertain, but there must be a part that was willing to here him out since she had agreed to meet with him.

 

“Look, I know people who I could ask to kill you,” Mandy started glaring at him. “And I don't think I would come to your funeral.”

 

“Don't really blame you,” Ian said softly, “guess I forgot how beautiful and tough you were.”.

 

“Shut up,” Mandy said, falling back on to the way her brain immediately assumed that no one would think her anything more than a ghetto skank. And then softly she added, “guess it doesn't take a lot to forget a lot things.”

 

“Mands, it's not like that,” Ian said just as quietly.

 

“I'll tell you what it's not like,” Mandy said, her glare was back. “It's not like Mickey was the only one you ran out on.”

 

“I'm sorry, about all those horrible things I said about you. And your family,” Ian said earnestly. “I guess I thought if I was pointing at you, then nobody would see through me.”

 

Mandy just stared at Ian, wondering how so much had changed from the boy she had left in her brother's caring arms. Her phone went off and quickly she read the text. “I gotta go.”

 

Dejectedly Ian watched her leave. “Bye.”

 

Ian slumped down over the bar, not paying attention to the newcomer who had just entered.

 

“Hi does anyone here know the address of an Ian McBryan?” asked the stranger.

 

Ian felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He tensed up before turning. But before he could get another word out he was interrupted by Vee who was behind the bar. “Well aren't you in luck. Ian McBryan is right here!”

 

She had heard every word Ian had said to Mandy, and she took pity on the boy. Not to mention she knew all about Ian's pen name, figuring that he was ashamed of his past and wasn't eager to share it. She also knew that the drunks around this place would deny there being a McBryan since he was in fact made up, and that that could blow his cover. Ian shot her grateful look.

 

“Hi, that would be me,” Ian started awkwardly. “Can I help you?”

 

The man was thin and had a camera around his neck, notepad in hand. “Thank god. Barry Lowenstein, New York Post. Glad to see you. It's definitely a different world down here...They told me you would be in Chicago, I just didn't think it would be the trashy parts.”

 

“Did you say the post?” Ian was shocked.

 

“I was hoping to get an interview with you and your family. Maybe a few pictures?” offered the reporter.

 

Ian looked to Vee, in the hopes that she might have something wise to interrupt with.

 

“And what? You thought you would find his family here in a Southside bar?” she asked.

 

“Well,” the reporter started delicately.

 

“The McBryans don't live in Southside,” Vee said.

 

“And how would you know?” one of the locals cried out.

 

Vee rolled her eyes.

 

“Can I talk to Mr. McBryan for a moment?” Vee dragged him to the back.

 

“Thank you so much-” started Ian.

 

“I'm not saying you should break the law, but remember that old fling of yours that lived Northside?” Vee said hurriedly.

 

“Jimmy's father?” Ian hadn't thought about him in years.

 

Vee nodded. “I know for a fact that the house is empty this week. Tony and Iggy were talking about busting in and cleaning the place out. I'm sure the Lishmans won't mind you borrowing the place for the day.”

 

Ian thanked her profusely before leading the reporter away.

 

“So what were you doing in the ghetto?” the reporter asked.

 

“Visiting some old friends,” muttered Ian, keeping it at that.

 

They got in the reporter's car, since Ian had walked to the bar, and Ian sat behind the wheel. He drove them both towards the north end to the address that he hadn't been to since Mickey got shot in the ass. It was also the place where Mickey had kissed him the first time.

 

“Is everything alright?” the reporter asked.

 

Ian was just looking at the driveway nostalgically, a small smile on his face. “This was a bad idea. I don't think anyone is home...”

 

Already the reporter was getting out of the car. “Wow. It must have been amazing growing up here.”

 

“Like a fantasy,” Ian said weakly, following behind him.

 

“Would you mind if I take a quick look inside?” the reporter asked.

 

“I don't think that's a good idea-”

 

“I'll come back then? Sometime more convenient for you?”

 

Ian's eyes widened. “Now is good. We can make now work.”

 

Ian dragged the man behind him, praying that Vee was right and no one was home. He began showing off the rooms in a hurry labeling them as he went. Suddenly there was a noise from the back room causing Ian to panic.

 

“And here,” he whispered, “we have a closet.”

 

Hastily he dragged the reporter in behind him.

 

“Why are we whispering?” asked the reporter.

 

“We always whispered in the closet. It was a game we had. My siblings and I. We called it Whisper in the Closet...it was like hide and seek,” Ian added lamely.

 

He exited the closet and found himself walking into none other than Mandy Milkovich.

 

“Ian?” there was a slight smirk on her face, “what are you doing in the closet?”

 

There was no way for Ian to explain that this was no time for jokes so he just thought an aggravated look at Mandy.

 

“And who is this?” asked Lowenstein looking the girl up and down.

 

Mandy put on a smile. “I'm Ian's sister-in-law.”

 

“I wasn't aware of any of Ian's family being married,” the reporter began.

 

Ian felt the panic start to close in.

 

Mandy laughed, “Lip doesn't like to talk much about it. The fact that he's related to this idiot. But yeah, I'm Lip's wife.”

 

“Lip?” asked Lowenstein.

 

“My brother, Philip McBryan,” Ian added smoothly.

 

“And who are they?” the reporter asked looking at the two boys behind Mandy.

 

“They're some movers. Lip wanted some of his things moved into our apartment so I came to oversee the task since none of the family would be here,” Mandy continued to lie smoothly. “And what are you doing here? Ian?”

 

“Lowenstein here wanted a tour, think we can manage that? Sis?”

 

Mandy grinned. “Oh yeah.”

 

She was a much better liar than Ian, and so she was in charge of leading the tour. Ian just nodded and agreed with everything she said. She made up a fascinating history of the house, as well as plenty of memorable childhood memories that were all false. Lowenstein ate it out of her palm. After about an hour they were done, and the reporter left.

 

Mandy turned on him, a smile wide on her face. “Well aren't you just a big fat liar.”

 

And that's when Ian knew everything was alright between the two of them again.

 

“Come on loser,” Mandy said. “Help us load up some of this shit.”

 

Ian rolled his eyes, but figured it was the least he could do since Mandy had spent the whole afternoon lying for him. It was good to have his best friend back.

 

“You better plan on giving me a ride back to Southside,” Ian laughed.

 

Mandy rolled her eyes. “We'll see. Depends how useful you turn out to be.”

 

Ian shook his head and followed her back into the empty house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review or kudos! They make my day. Also I'm pretty sure the rating is going to change because of future chapters, but we'll see. Let me know how I'm doing. Thanks for the support so far it means a lot. ~T.W.o.W.


	5. Chapter 5

That evening, the Gallaghers and half of Southside were hosting a block party, so when Ian returned home, everyone was in a flurry. Frank had slunk off somewhere, and was sure to show up again in time for the party. Meanwhile, Carl and Kev pulled out massive amounts of fireworks and firecrackers that Ian was pretty sure were illegal.

 

“What's this for?” Ian asked Mandy, watching her help Fiona carry food.

 

“It's summer, gotta celebrate somehow,” laughed Mandy. She looked so beautiful and grown up. Ian wondered what else he had missed when he had gone away. His oldest sister was teasing her husband, as he helped her with the grocery bags. Every so often their eyes would meet, or they would share a kiss and Ian felt warm inside. After so many failed relationships, she deserved this. It was healthy and stabilizing, and Gus was a great guy. He was good at keeping Fiona on track, working with her to save money and keep a budget, and he was also great with the kids.

 

Debbie came in, following Mandy around, and the two of them were laughing together like old friends. Even Liam was helping out, managing to pull beers out of the fridge and put them in the coolers. There was something so dysfunctional about a ten year old handling alcohol that casually, but Ian couldn't help but feel fond of the situation. This was his family, messed up as it was. He only hoped Linus could accept it. He couldn't imagine never coming back here again. He couldn't do that to them. He couldn't do that to himself.

 

As the sun began to set, neighbors from all over began to show up. Friends from the Alibi even managed to leave their bar stools, on the promise of more alcohol that was free. Soon the streets began to fill with laughter and the sounds of people. Gus' band arrived, and people began to dance. Fiona was at the front of the impromptu stage, supporting her husband with her most beautiful smile.

 

Ian couldn't tear his eyes away from them, they radiated happiness. He was sitting by Mandy in his yard when he saw Mickey walking up the street. The man was dressed in his usual sleeveless button down but there was something different about him. An air of confidence, like he had found something that he had never really had when Ian was around. Mandy looked at what Ian was staring at and smiled softly.

 

“You know he went up there,” she said quietly.

 

“Who? Mick? When?” Ian asked, still not taking his eyes off the shorter man. Mickey greeted Fiona affectionately before moving on to talk to Carl and Lip, who had finally arrived from Northside.

 

“About a year after you left,” confessed Mandy. “He doesn't think anyone knows, but Svetlana let it slip once.”

 

Ian froze. It had been a long time since he had thought about the prostitute Mickey had been forced to marry, and hadn't been able to divorce until after his father's death. He shivered remembering the circumstances that had led to that whole angst filled part of his life. Memories of small Yev filled his head, and he couldn't help but wonder what had ever become of them. When he looked at Mandy he saw how earnest she looked. “He realized right away that it would take more than an apology to win you back. He needed to conquer the world….he's been trying ever since.”

 

Ian felt a pang, and looked back at Mickey, but the other had gotten lost in the crowd. “That's why he kept sending the papers back...”

 

“It's funny how things don't work out,” Mandy said watching Ian intently.

 

“Funny how they do,” he said still searching for his ex.

 

“Look who I found,” Carl said coming up with a smile. In tow was Mickey, and he didn't seem to happy about it.

 

“What did I say about dragging me about?” huffed Mickey.

 

“Debs bringing us some food, said you should join us,” Carl smirked. “Like a real family.”

 

Debbie arrived bringing plenty of food for everyone. When Ian was passed a plate of food however he couldn't help but notice the silverware. In the past the Gallaghers never bothered to use anything other than plastic, but what was in his hands was a stunning piece of twisted sterling silver that was both elegant and practical. It was clear that in it's past life it had been something else, but the artist had managed to re-purpose it and make it useful. Gentrification at it's finest...and this time he wasn't being sarcastic. He was staring at it intently.

 

“Don't tell me you forgot what a fork was,” laughed Mandy.

 

“These would be perfect for the wedding. I'm just trying to see who makes these Canary Metal Works,” Ian explained squinting at the small print embossed into the back. “I wonder if you can get them in New York. They're stunning”

 

Carl opened his mouth with a smirk. “Hey Mick, Ian is wondering where he can get some old as fuck twisted metal...got any ideas?”

 

“Why ask me?” Mickey said with a scowl.

 

“Oh I don't know,” Debbie cut in with a huge smile, “maybe cause you're-”

 

“All fancy yourself...finally selling the house that is,” Mandy interrupted, reading the look in her brother's eyes as easily as an open book.

 

“Am I missing something?” asked Ian looking first to his younger siblings, before looking to the Milkovich siblings.

 

Mandy rolled her eyes. “When was the last time we danced together, c'mon.”

 

She dragged Ian towards the band. A makeshift dance floor had been created by closing off the road, and couples were dancing to the lively music. Behind them Debbie smirked, “Come on Mick, let's go.”

 

“Not my type,” he muttered.

 

Debbie smirked. “Oh yes I am...well if I was a boy that is. Face it, you like redheads.”

 

“Fucking bossy-” Mickey complained, but he allowed himself to be pulled towards the music. For awhile both couples were content to just dance to the music, laughing and having a good time. The band then announced they were going to slow it down, Gus stepping off the stage to join his wife. Mandy managed to guide Ian over towards where Debbie and Mickey were near the front of the crowd.

 

“He's hopeless,” announced Debbie.

 

“You know, he's pretty good,” laughed Ian. “It might be you.”

 

“Fuck you, Ian Gallagher,” Debbie flounced off.

 

“Care to dance?” Ian asked.

 

Mickey nodded, because at this point what else was there he could do? They began to sway lightly to the music, the contact was light and shy….as if everything that had gone down between them had never occurred. To a newcomer they looked like strangers.

 

“Look at them welded together,” sighed Fiona, watching her brother closely. Although their touches were light and tender, she could read them like a book. “Why do they fight it?”

 

Gus, having no good answer, just spun his wife and continued to hold her close.

 

After that the music continued, and for awhile Ian and Mickey lost each other. The latter headed over to talk to his brothers and Ian was left alone, watching him leave. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned expecting it to be Mandy. Instead he was faced with the evil eye of an angry Russian woman he hadn't seen in years.

 

“Svet-”

 

“You don't get to talk, come with me,” she ordered.

 

Ian followed her away from the party, he hadn't expected to see her again.

 

“You get a few minutes, but don't think about stealing him away again. I know people who will have you killed.”

 

Ian was still confused as he was led back to the Gallagher house, into the kitchen. Sitting at the table was a young boy who looked like he could be in kindergarten. His hair had darkened over the years, but his eyes remained that intense blue color they had been when Ian had known him.

 

“Yev?”

 

The boy looked up from his sandwich with curious eyes. “Ian?”

 

“You remember...” Ian sounded skeptical.

 

The child shook his head. “No, but Dad talked about you a lot. He didn't want me to forget.”

 

The innocence in Yevgeny's voice, the earnest expression, was all too much for Ian. He could feel tears pooling in his eyes. “I'm sorry it took so long for me to come home, it was selfish of me to forget...”

 

Yev nodded in agreement. “And cruel. Dad missed you. Quite a bit when I was younger even more-”

 

“Yevgeny,” his mother reprimanded from the kitchen door. The child got the hint and stopped talking.

 

“I'm just sorry you weren't around, you were like a legend...a bedtime story. I always have wanted to meet you,” Yev continued after a moment.

 

Ian smiled as tears ran down his cheeks. “You were always there for me, even when things went wrong...I had you. I doted on you and took you everywhere...hell I even took you on an 'unexpected' road trip...and then I just left you. You and everyone else...you must have been so confused, wondering if you had done something...what were you two?”

 

“I told him it was my fault.”

 

Ian turned to see Mickey standing beside Svetlana. Yev's eyes lit up, he ran to Mickey yelling, “Dad!”

 

Mickey gave him a tight embrace before saying, “go back to the party with your mother.”

 

Yev nodded, before running and giving Ian a hug...which the redhead was pretty sure he didn't deserve. Then the two, mother and son, walked away.

 

Finally the Ian and Mickey were left alone. “Everyday. Whenever he asked, I told him it was my fault.”

 

“Quit being so nice,” Ian said wiping away his tears.

 

“It's the truth,” shrugged Mickey. He was now leaning against the counter, still not daring to come any closer.

 

“How come it has to be so complicated? Truth...life...this?” Ian slumped.

 

There was a pause.

 

“You looked like you were having fun tonight,” Mickey said.

 

“I like it in New York, Mickey. I like it a lot. But when I'm here? This fits too.” Ian didn't want to admit how much he missed his home.

 

“Since when does it have to be one or another? You can have roots and wings too, Ian.” Mickey said earnestly, running the pad of his thumb across his lower lip.

 

“Maybe I could fly home for the winter,” laughed Ian, knowing that that wasn't an option.

 

From outside they could hear people cheering and laughing as the fireworks were set off.

 

“Do you remember that old dug out? The one we snuck off to if your house was too full and my dad was outta jail.”

 

“Had a dream about it the other night,” confessed Ian.

 

“Sometimes I go there to think. Just to listen as the sprinklers come on, it's nice...I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we had just gone straight to our date and never come home. Then Sammy-”

 

“They still would have found me,” Ian replied. “They're with the government, one date wouldn't have stopped them.”

 

“That's when things went south for us,” Mickey replied earnestly. “I sometimes try to figure out what I could have done differently.”

 

“At least you didn't go to prison for try to get rid of her,” Ian said resolutely. “At least I wasn't so far gone that I couldn't protect you from that.”

 

Mickey smiled gratefully. “I wanted to set up house with you, raise Yevgeny and be a family. I thought it could be an adventure, as shitty and cliché as it sounds...I guess I didn't realize that it would be your only adventure...and that without your meds it would be torture. Guess Mother Nature knew best, she gave you an out.”

 

“Bipolar isn't a way-”

 

“Shit. I didn't mean it like that, Ian...” Mickey sighed. Thinking for a moment before saying, “if you had never gotten sick, would you have ever left?”

 

Ian looked down at his hands. “Probably not.”

 

“So it was a gift in disguise. This life was never for you, you deserved to see the world, to be useful.” Mickey explained.

 

“I was so ashamed, Mick. I couldn't look anyone in the eye without feeling guilt which only made me feel worse. I was relying so much on everyone, and when things started to get worse I saw how hard you all had to work just to pay for my medication. It was like the old days, everyone chipping in what they could...and I hated it. And all of a sudden, I just needed a new life. I needed to get out of Southside, were everyone knew everything I had done. A clean slate. That's what New York is.” Ian felt like he was about to cry again.

 

“You've done well for yourself. I'm proud of you,” Mickey said, with a small smile he added, “I'm just sorry I never got to dance with you at our wedding. I'm sure this next one will go better for you.”

 

Ian felt sick, he couldn't look at Mickey anymore, but there was nothing in the world he would rather be seeing. “Mick, I can't”

 

“Go home, Ian.”

 

Ian frowned as he was already in his own kitchen.

 

“To New York. You'll be happier there.”

 

As Mickey walked out of the kitchen he brushed past Fiona who had come to find her brother. He nodded his goodbye, leaving the two Gallaghers in the kitchen.

 

“I saw the way you two were looking at each other,” Fiona said softly, sinking to a crouch so as to look her brother in the eye.

 

“Would you shut up, Fi? I can't help the way Mickey feels about me.”

 

“Now Ian, he hasn't done anything wrong,” reminded Fiona.

 

“He hasn't done anything right,” Ian said with an almost hysterical laugh. “I can't believe we're even arguing about this. I'm marrying another man, Fiona.”

 

“Yes, you're getting a second chance. Don't you dare mess this up,” Fiona threatened.

 

“For who? Me or you? Cause you've fucked up plenty of your own relationships, Fi, so I don't think you're one to talk.” Ian shouted back.

 

Fiona's face spasmed in pain and fury. “I know. It takes one to know one.”

 

With that she stormed out back to the party. Ian was left alone, he felt lost in a storm of emotions and didn't know what to do. All he knew for sure was that sleep would help. He took his meds, and curled up in his borrowed bed. He was leaving tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! My computer was broken and I had no way to access these files. Plus school has been so busy! I am sorry to everyone in the fandom who has to deal with s666, I am not watching it and don't think I ever will (although I am reading some of the things which have occurred). I loved Shameless, and I will continue with this fic. But I don't think I can watch the show anymore. Hope this update leaves you satisfied, I will try to write another one soon! Leave a comment! ~T.W.o.W.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning Ian left early, texting Mandy that he wanted to meet at the Alibi. He felt shitty for not delivering the rest of his goodbyes in person, but he had written a letter to Fi and Gus. In it he thanked them for their hospitality and asked for their forgiveness for leaving so abruptly...but it was time he got back to New York, back to Linus...before Chicago messed him up anymore than it already had. He had wrote little notes to each of his siblings, except Lip. He figured he would just text him on the road. But Ian knew leaving Mandy a note wasn't going to do it this time. He had to give her a proper goodbye, and maybe leave her a message for Mickey...He had no clue what he wanted to say to the other man, not after last night.

 

-

 

Mickey had just finished returning and unloading everything his siblings had stolen from the Lishmans. When he had found out what they had done he had ordered them to return it themselves. After getting shot in the ass for his troubles, he was wary of robbing that family ever again. Unfortunately his siblings were all dicks and refused to do so. So it was on him to pack it all up again, and drive it back to Northside...their argument had been that he was heading that way anyways...God his siblings could be bastards sometimes. As he leaned against the truck, catching his breath, he saw a fancy car drive out. Out stepped an attractive man, if not boring looking, in Mickey's opinion, man. All his features merged seamlessly together to create a reasonably attractive looking visage. Above blue eyes was a swoop of dark hair, that reminded Mickey a bit of his own. However it was clear this man spent a lot more time on his hair, and had perfected the smile.

 

“You here for the Lishmans? Pretty sure they're outta town,” Mickey said, still leaning against his truck.

 

The man frowned slightly. “I'm actually here to surprise Ian. My fiancee.”

 

“You got the wrong house,” Mickey said with a snort.

 

“Isn't this the McBryan's? Ian McBryan?”

 

“Are we talking about the same boy?” Mickey said with a nervous laugh. There was no way that this could be the man Ian was marrying.

 

“Ian McBryan. I got his address from my mother's PA,” explained the stranger.

 

Mickey nodded then slowly he said, “for a moment I was sure you were talking about Ian Gallagher.”

 

“Gallagher?”

 

Mickey tipped his head. “I can take you to your fiancee. But first how about we stop and get something to drink.”

 

The man agreed and got into the beat up truck before introducing himself, “I'm Linus Hennings, by the way.”

 

“Nice meeting you, Mickey,” the shorter man said by means of introductions. They shook hands and Mickey began to drive to Southside.

 

After a few moments of silence, “so who's Ian Gallagher?”

 

Mickey kept his eyes on the road, but his lips quirked into a soft smile. “Local hero round where I grew up.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“When he was younger he wanted to join the military as an officer more than anything. He joined ROTC when he was in high school, and spent a whole summer being tutored by his older insufferable brother just so he could get into West Point,” Mickey continued to watch the road.

 

“And that made him a hero?” asked Linus.

 

Mickey glanced over at his companion. “Not a lot of selfless people here in Southside. Most folks just lookin' out for themselves, or too drunk to care. His father was one of them. Never around when his children needed him, always using welfare to buy booze...it's a miracle Ian turned out the way he did.”

 

“What ever happened to him?” Linus asked, tipping his head to the side.

 

Mickey's smile turned dark. “Enlisted too soon, went AWOL...ended up marrying some Southside trash – not such a nice story.”

 

Linus frowned. “That's a shame.”

 

Mickey nodded. “It sure was.”

 

They arrived at the Alibi Room, where Mickey had promised to buy Linus a drink, before taking him to the Gallaghers. God Ian was gonna hate him for this, thought Mickey. He hoped to slip away and text Fi a warning, but as they entered the place one head stood out from all the rest.

 

“Ian?” Linus said with shock, running up to join the redhead. Ian looked a bit shell shocked as he returned his fiancee's hug. “Are you surprised?”

 

“What are you doing here?” Ian muttered.

 

“I came to deliver your fiancee,” Mickey said with a smirk as he leaned against his sister's shoulder. Mandy looked just as shocked as Ian.

 

“I think he was talking to me,” Linus said still beaming.

 

“Mickey,” Ian said softly, staring at his ex.

 

“Must be exhausting,” Mickey said coldly.

 

“What?” both men in front of him asked.

 

“Living a lie,” Mickey quirked his eyebrow, before he was elbowed by Mandy in the gut.

 

“You're one to talk,” she growled, but neither Ian nor Linus heard her.

 

“What's he talking about?” Linus asked.

 

“You and I are in love with two different people,” muttered Mickey, still trying to regain his breath.

 

“Ian, how do you know this man?” asked Linus, looking Mickey over with a touch of disgust and disapproval.

 

“He's my husband,” Ian said staring Mickey in the eyes.

 

“What?”

 

“I mean, ex-husband,” Ian looked away at his fiancee. “I came down here to finalize my divorce.”

 

“Hey, Gallagher this must be your new man!” Kev said wandering over from the other side of the room. “Fi was telling me all about him last night.”

 

“Gallagher?” Linus was staring at Ian, reappraising him. “Ian Gallagher?”

 

Linus backed away.

 

“Linus, wait,” Ian started.

 

The man continued to walk away, shaking his head and muttering something to himself.

 

“Linus! Please, wait!” Ian chased after him out onto the sidewalk. “Please, let me explain. You don't understand. I'm not this person anymore…”

 

Linus stopped. “I always knew it was something with you. McBryan? Really? Do you take me for a fool. That's a Scottish name. I've always known that, but I hoped you were telling the truth about Ireland somehow...I was a fool. I don't know who you are, or what else you've lied about...but I do know one thing. There's a plane with my name on it. I'm going back to New York, Ian. I recommend you give me some space.”

 

With that Ian was left alone crying on the street. A few minutes later Fiona came running up the street. She found Ian crumpled in a ball in the alleyway leaning against the outer walls of the Alibi.

 

“Oh, Ian,” she said softly.

 

He looked up, a question in his eyes.

 

“Mandy called me. She took Mickey home, she told me that someone needed to bring you home too,” Fi said softly, helping her brother up. Once he was standing he leaned heavily against his sister. She began the long walk home.

 

-

 

Once they got there she helped Ian take some pills, and make his way to bed.

 

“I know what you're thinking,” he said softly. “I spoiled things good this time...”

 

“Oh Ian, don't go accusing me of thinking that rubbish,” Fiona said putting her hand on her brother's forehead. “Because I haven't, not for one second. Besides, spoiled is in the eye of the beholder…like take our family. A lot of people would look at us and see our parents and think that we are ruined because of how they treated us. But we Gallaghers stick together. Lip is interning in a big firm in Chicago, and got a college degree, you're a famous writer, I married Gus, Debbie is in college with Carl and they are both doing fine. And Liam? He is doing well in school, and loves when his siblings drop by for a visit. We could have spoiled this life, messed it up so many ways, but we're here. We'll always be there for each other, that's what it means to be a Gallagher.” Fiona explained, gently brushing Ian's red hair back from his face. She kissed his forehead. “Get some rest. I'll wake you up in time for dinner.”

 

-

 

Ian made his way down to the kitchen on his own and found his sister already cooking some food with Liam's help. At that moment, the front door swung open and Gus walked in with a guest.

 

“Look who I found hanging around the Alibi, he's been looking for you,” Gus said smiling at Ian.

 

The redhead's eyes lit up a bit. “Thought you'd be in New York by now.”

 

“So did I,” admitted Linus, looking sheepish.

 

Fiona smiled, “Ian, are you going to introduce us?”

 

“This is Fiona, my oldest sister, and her husband Gus,” Ian said. “And that's my youngest brother, Liam.”

 

Liam smiled up at the stranger.

 

“Is he adopted?” started Linus.

 

Fiona frowned slightly. Ian replied, “no. He's biologically my brother. Well half brother, my mom had an affair with my dad's brother...and then she had me...” Ian looked around the messy living room and cheap tiles of the kitchen. He felt embarrassment flood his body as he saw it how Linus must be seeing it for the first time. “And this is our home. I grew up here.”

 

“Well it's a pleasure meeting the three of you,” Linus said apparently getting past his shock. “I'm Linus Hennings...Ian's fiancee. Well that is if he'll still have me. I really don't care what happened here. So you have a past. Who doesn't? What I need to know is if there is a place for me in your future.”

 

“Oh good lord, that's the sweetest thing,” Fiona murmured. Currently Gus had one arm around her shoulder and the other was resting over her hand on Liam's shoulder.

 

“Well go on,” murmured Gus.

 

Ian nodded. “Yeah. Of course you're there.”

 

Linus smiled, but still he didn't take Ian into his arms. “Perfect, New York City it is!”

 

“What?” Fiona asked cocking her head.

 

“Well, you see my mother happens to be the mayor...and uh, she'd like nothing better than a big snazzy New York wedding.” Linus explained.

 

“Linus...actually I was wondering if we could have the wedding here, in my hometown?” Ian asked, wrapping his arms around himself self consciously.

 

“Look Ian, if you're worried about the money-”

 

“It's not about the money, Linus...not in Southside…not down here,” Ian said looking around his family home. Sure they had been broke, but there was a lot of love given in this home. His sister had been right about what she had said.

 

“You know there are a lot of people expecting us to get married in the city...but I think that this might be better,” Linus said smiling at his fiancee. “Fiona, if you could take care of the rehearsal dinner, I would like to do the rest.”

 

Fiona and smiled at Gus, “I think we can manage that. After all how many times does your little brother get married...um...other than before.”

 

Everyone laughed.

 

Internally Linus winced. Oh god..how was he gonna manage to sell his mother on the idea….?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got this written early and thought I ought to post it. Thank you all for the positive comments and responses, you guys are the sweetest! This is un-betaed so any mistakes are mine. Also to any of you Cameron Monaghan fans out there, his show Mercy Street is amazing. I seriously recommend looking it up. Please leave a comment, and don't worry there's a happy ending for Gallavich I promise! ~T.W.o.W.
> 
> Ps: the next chapter is //probably// going to contain sex between Ian and Linus, you've been warned...also I will change the rating if I choose to write the chapter as such, we shall see.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: contains sex between Linus and Ian. There is some dubious consent, I have set it off with asterisks if you want to skip over it. (It is just three paragraphs long.)
> 
> Also for time line stuff: I am saying that Ian and Mick got married after Terry was put away after Yev's christening...and that he died in prison sometime around then for them to get married. I am sorry if the canon divergence is a bit confusing, I am trying to do my best to make the two stories fit. Basically they are married for about a year before Ian can't handle it and takes off to NYC for a year or so before returning. Sorry again for the confusion.

That evening, Linus spent the night with Ian. They shared the small twin bed that had once been Ian's...the one he had only ever shared with Mick before. As Linus kissed him, Ian couldn't help but feel that this was wrong. He wasn't sure how, and then he realized. He gently pushed the other man off of him.

 

“I need to tell you something,” Ian said with a slight frown. “I haven't been completely honest with you.”

 

Linus pulled away and eyed Ian warily, silently urging him to continue.

 

“After I left the army, I became a dancer at this club,” Ian said with a frown. He wasn't especially proud of those days when he blew old men for cash and gave handjobs to any man willing to pay. But the high it had given him had fed his mania like nothing else before.

 

Linus frowned. “A dancer? Is that it Ian?”

 

Ian shook his head. “I may have made a porno...but that just happened once, we...I was desperate for cash-”

 

Linus pulled away. “I think you'd better tell me everything you did during that time.”

 

Ian looked shocked.

 

“If we're going to start our relationship, we can't have anymore lies between us. What exactly did you do when you worked at the club?”

 

Ian licked his lips slowly, and began. He told every dirty and embarrassing detail that he could remember. He was afraid that if he didn't Linus would leave him again, and that if he did he would never want to touch him. He began crying halfway through, his body betraying the stress he was feeling. He confessed every sordid time he cheated on Mickey, the things he and Kash had done, Ned...the porno...all of it. The only things he couldn't confess were what he and Mickey had had. For better or for worse, he wanted to keep those memories to himself.

 

By the time he had finished, Linus' pupils were blown wide and his breathing was shallow. “Oh god, you dirty, dirty boy. Take off your clothes.”

 

***Ian was feeling emotionally vulnerable, and unsure, but he followed Linus' orders. It was unusual for the dark haired man to show his dominant streak. More commonly their sex was rather dull, but after telling Linus everything he had done, the latter had been rather turned on. “Get on your knees.” he ordered.

 

Ian was on his knees in an instant, pulling down Linus' pants and underwear at once. He could see how hard his fiance was, precum smeared across his abdomen. Ian began sucking, just the way Linus liked. Above him the man gasped, “agh..mmm I've always wondered how you were so good at this...guess I know, you dirty whore~ ahhhh just like that baby.”

 

Ian ignored his gag reflex, taking his fiancee's dick in farther and farther. His throat began to burn, but he ignored it. It wasn't long before Linus was close to cumming, the brunet tightened his grip on the redhead practically forcing him to swallow.***

 

“Want me to take care of you?” Linus asked panting, once it was all over.

 

Ian shook his head. He hadn't gotten hard at all, he chalked it up to his meds. “Nah, I'm not feeling it.”

 

Linus frowned a bit. “Are you sure?”

 

Ian nodded, reassured. “Yeah. I'm good.”

 

Linus nodded, before heading to the bathroom to go clean up. Ian found a dirty shirt on the floor and wiped around his mouth. All of a sudden his exhaustion caught up with him, and he went to curl up in his bed. He was feeling emotionally drained from his day, and all he could remember was the last time he had felt like this...here. He had been feeling awful, it was just after his unplanned 'road trip' with Yev...the drugs hadn't been working, and his family had treated him like he was sick. Looking back, he realized he was shouldn't have stopped his medication...and that they were right. But that didn't make him feel any less shitty. It was one bad day after another, but Mickey had come. He hadn't said much, just apologized for being late.

 

It didn't solve Ian's depression, or his moods, or anything really...but it had helped. Having his husband by his side had helped. Ian could still remember what it was like to have Mickey's head against his, his hand holding him close. Ian and Mickey, the two of them against the world. He remembered it so well.

 

And then Linus returned, and the warm feelings dissipated. 

 

“God, how did you sleep in this bed,” Linus laughed...his voice was too loud, too rough, “it's so tiny. I can't even sleep here with you.”

 

“If you're so uncomfortable you can take the floor,” Ian said coldly.

 

“Woah, I didn't mean to offend you,” Linus said. “I was just joking. I am sorry, Ian. Perhaps I should go sleep on the couch?”

 

Ian swallowed, guilt appearing instantly. “No. Stay. I want you here.”

 

Linus smiled into the darkness. “Then I will stay.”

 

Linus stretched out on the bed, wrapping an arm around Ian. It was nothing like his memories.

 

-

 

The next morning Linus really did have to leave. He said he wanted to go explain to his mother why they were moving the wedding to Chicago, rather than New York and that would be better done in person. The parting wasn't nearly as emotional as Ian thought it might be, and once Linus was gone he shuffled off to bed. Fiona followed him.

 

“Feeling low?”

 

“A bit,” Ian replied.

 

Fiona gave him a smile. “Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”

 

“Thanks Fi.”

 

-

 

“A prostitute.” Anna Carlisle repeated the words back to her son in disgust.

 

“Exotic dancer, mother,” Linus corrected. This conversation was going as bad as he imagined it would be. As soon as he announced that Ian McBryan was really Ian Gallagher his mother had flipped. She had gotten Barry, her PA, to look up the name, there had been a lot of dirt.

 

“He's been convicted, Linus,” Anna said darkly.

 

“With what? Never mind that he's changed,” Linus replied shaking his head. He couldn't believe that Ian would dare to leave a conviction out from his confession.

 

“I don't know which is worse,” sighed Anna, “male prostitute or baby kidnapper...oh wait yes I do. You can't go through-”

 

“What do you suggest I do...dump him for being poor?” huffed Linus. “You're supposed to be a democrat, remember?”

 

Anna's lips tightened. “There is nothing wrong with being poor. I get elected by poor people, and I am a big enough person to commend him for making something of himself. What upsets me is that he lied to you.”

 

“So what? He was ashamed of his background...can you really blame him?” Linus added. “I mean who hasn't been embarrassed by their parents at this point.”

 

“I'm going to assume that was a rhetorical question. And besides it's not his parents I'm concerned with. I'm sure they are lovely people. I'm more concerned with his past actions,” Anna retorted.

 

“Assume away,” sighed Linus. Honestly he had no clue about Ian's parents. He knew that Mickey must have mentioned them, but at that point he wasn't paying attention. He didn't yet know that Ian Gallagher and Ian McBryan were one and the same. “No one is going to change my mind about this...not you, not the media, not anyone.”

 

“Fine..just admit it. I was right.” Anna said crossing her arms.

 

“Yes...you were right.” Linus sighed. “There is a wedding in your future, whether you like it or not.”

 

“And how, exactly, does Little Mr. Southside plan to accommodate people? I suppose he had connections in jail?”

 

“Well there are several excellent choices...Motel 8, Days Inn, and the Southside Star Motel, where we will be,” quipped Linus. He was willing to sacrifice a few good nights of sleep in order for Ian to have his wedding in his home town.

 

“Laugh now, but if this gets out...” threatened the Mayor.

 

“It won't,” promised Linus. If he had thought it might he would never have agreed.

 

His mother eyed him. “The press expects the Plaza in June...have any idea what we have to expect down there?”

 

“There's this rather nice bar called the Alibi Room-” started Linus half teasing.

 

“Christ.” She then screamed, “Barry, get me a drink!”

 

-

 

Within the week Anna Carlisle, her PA Barry Lowenstein, and her son flew out to Chicago. She was then introduced to Fiona and Gus as the rest of Ian's family was busy.

 

“Carlisle, not Hennings?” asked Gus. After leading them into their home.

 

“I kept my maiden name for politics,” the woman replied coldly. She eyed the messy kitchen she was sitting in, afraid that if she touched anything she would need a tetanus shot. “Now, let's talk about your wedding.”

 

“There's a small chapel here. It was where I took Ian to be christened,” Fiona explained.

 

Anna turned her steely gaze on the young woman. “You took him? Surely you two aren't his parents.”

 

Fiona laughed. “No. I am his older sister. My parents were too hungover from celebrating the night before. They told me to take Lip and the screaming baby out of the house or else. Told me to get him christened, that I shouldn't waste the money that had already paid.”

 

“Lip?” Anna asked.

 

“Phillip, one of our other brothers,” Fi responded.

 

Anna shook her head before changing the topic. “The chapel sounds lovely. I am sure we can control the security there fine. An outdoor reception could be lovely as well, if that is amenable.”

 

“You've thought of everything.” Ian said with trepidation and some relief.

 

“I always do.” Anna looked around the room distastefully once more. “This has been great, we'll get in touch.”

 

She led Barry, who had been taking copious notes, away leaving Linus and Ian alone. Fi and Gus went to walk them out.

 

“Sorry she can be a bit much,” Linus confessed.

 

“No. It's fine. Everything will be fine once we're married.” Ian hoped that saying it would make it so.

 

“I've heard that Kira will be flying out soon,” Linus said easily.

 

Ian nodded. “Yeah, it's been awhile since I've seen her. I was hoping on taking her to check out this company to do silverware for the reception.”

 

Linus pressed a kiss on his fiancee's temple. “You know what's best. Can't wait.”

 

Ian's eyes brightened. “They seem to be very interesting. I'm surprised I'd never heard of them in New York, they've started to make a pretty big name for themselves.”

 

“What are they called?”

 

“Canary Metal Works.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard for me to write tbh, also senior year has kept me so busy. I am sorry for the delay, but someone's lovely comment convinced me to work on this. Also it's spring break so I have the time rn. I am hoping to write another chapter before the week is over, but no promises. Let me know what you think so far! I love your comments, and they are what's gonna motivate me tbh. Lots of love T.W.o.W.


	8. Chapter 8

Kira greeted Ian with a huge hug. “It's been so long!”

 

“Good to see you too, Kira,” Ian smirked. “Ready to go to Northside with me?”

 

“Huh? Oh never mind. I've got loads to tell you,” the young woman beamed.

 

Ian opened the side door for his friend. Kira had flown in a couple days ago, but Ian had been kept busy with wedding planning with Linus' mother that he had had no chance to see her. He had finally found the time to go to her hotel to pick her up. “Tell me about it on the drive.”

 

He got in on the drivers side and began to navigate them towards the store.

 

“You remember the shiek,” Kira asked.

 

“Yeah,” Ian didn't take his eyes off from the road.

 

“Well he proposed to me...and I think I loved him, despite his billions,” Kira rambled.

 

“Then why didn't you say 'yes'?” asked Ian skeptically, he had noticed no ring on his friend's left hand.

 

“Because I hesitated long enough to realize my head and my heart were saying two different things.” Kira said.

 

Ian set the car in park, before getting out. “It's this way.”

 

“Well it is a big decision,” Kira continued.

 

“It's supposed to be be the easiest one you make,” Ian said dryly.

 

“Was it?”

 

Ian coughed. “Hey, Kira. This is it.”

 

They were standing in front of a bustling shop right on the main strip of Downtown Chicago. It had big storefront windows which allowed plenty of natural light to shine in and reflect off the sterling silver within. The sign showed a bird flying free of a cage. Below it was written Canary Metal Works in a careful script.

 

“This is the stuff I was telling you about,” Ian said.

 

“Canary Metal Works.” Kira said reading the sign. “Oh yes. Let's.”

 

Ian and Kira entered the bustling shop. Table upon table held artisan wooden crates which held the silverware. On stands above them were candelabras, platters, vases, and pitchers. Ian had been right. Everything in here had had a past life before it had been melted down to be remade. It was like him…

 

As Ian was gazing at one of the candlesticks by the back his eyes caught the unmistakable form of his ex husband. He froze. What was Mick doing here?

 

Kira noticed her friend staring at a stranger. “What's the matter.”

 

“Oh. My. God.” Ian said as Mickey began heading towards them. He stopped a few times chatting easily with other customers.

 

“Do we know-”

 

“Mickey?” Ian's voice caught in his throat making it come out all wrong.

 

Mickey had a warm smile on his face, so different from Ian had remembered him in Southside. The smile faltered for a moment. “Ian?”

 

“Friend of yours?” Kira asked uncertainly.

 

“I tried to call you a couple times,” Ian said softly.

 

“Listen,” Mickey's smile returned but looked forced, “since you're here you and your friend should look around and have some lunch. There's a great place across the road. It was nice seein' ya, Gallagher.”

 

Mickey jammed his hands in his pockets, before moving away to chat with some of his other customers. Ian couldn't help but follow the other with his eyes. Kira stood beside her friend frowning. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but she knew it was important. For the rest of the trip, Ian was unfocused...paying almost no attention to the shop assistant who was trying to help them. His wedding was getting closer and closer, but still he couldn't forget Mickey's smile. Mickey seemed so at ease here…he was no longer the thug he had used to be, he had started a successful business...why had none of his family bothered to tell him?

 

-

 

A well dressed man stumbled into the Alibi Room, much to the amusement of its patrons.

 

“I'm looking for...for Ian McBryan.” The man said to the bartender.

 

“Anybody recognize that name?” Kev asked.

 

The drunks around the room responded in the negative.

 

“What business you got with him,” Kev asked leaning in towards the old man.

 

The gentleman drew himself up to his full height. “I am afraid that's a private matter.”

 

“Well then, I'm afraid we can't help you,” Kev said not sorry at all. He watched the man leave. “Damn reporters.

 

“Like the first ant at a picnic,” Frank nodded wisely.

 

It was obvious he was completely drunk. “Oh shut up, Frank.”

 

-

 

The day of the wedding finally dawned on Southside Chicago. In the Gallagher household, all the siblings were home again under one roof. Everyone rushed to get their things to get ready at the chapel. It took longer than it should have, but it was managed. And by Gallagher standards they probably got there early.

 

Debbie, Fi, and Kira were the bridesmaids. Linus' best friend as well as Lip and Carl were groomsmen, Liam was the ring bearer and Linus' goddaughter was their flower girl. Gus was there to ensure everyone's sanity. And he had also offered to walk Ian down the aisle. Frank had not been invited for obvious reasons.

 

At the chapel security was monitoring everyone who arrived.

 

“Name?”

 

“Uh, Buford...Wallace Buford.” The old man swallowed. He hadn't had much luck with the people of Chicago as of yet, after his awkward run in at the Alibi Room… “Uh, I'm no on that list. But I've got some urgent business with the groom.”

 

“Are you joking?” asked one of the security guards.

 

“Which one?” asked the other skeptically.

 

“Ian McBryan-”

 

“Yeah, not today you don't.” interrupted the first.

 

“Alright sir, time for you to go.” added the second.

 

-

 

Across town, Mandy watched her brother put two six packs into the back of his borrowed car. She was sitting on the stairs watching him walk away.

 

“Hey, there's a weddin' goin' on,” she said softly.

 

“Yeah, I heard a mention of it a time or two,” Mickey said with a wry smile.

 

“I sure hope this weather cooperates,” Mandy said looking at the sky. Clouds were beginning to gather, and there was almost no doubt that it would rain soon.

 

“It's supposed to be a big one,” Mickey sighed.

 

“You know, Mick, you're my closet brother, and I love you...but sometimes you act too much like our father.”

 

Mickey glared at her.

 

“You're both stubborn fools,” Mandy furrowed her brow. “I'm sorry-”

 

“He made his decision,” Mick said referring to Ian and not their father.

 

Mandy's face softened, her heart breaking for her brother. “For somebody who's been holdin' onto somethin' so hard, you're pretty quick to let it go.”

 

Mickey turned on his heel, to see that Mandy had stood and walked towards him. “You know I can't control him any more than I can control the weather.”

 

Mandy watched her brother get into the car. “Where are you going?”

 

“Somewhere to think.” Mick responded, starting the car.

 

“Where?” persisted his sister.

 

“Old baseball field, probably,” Mickey said gruffly. Mandy smiled, whenever Mickey was thinking particularly about Ian he liked to go there.

 

“See you after?”

 

Mickey nodded before driving off. Mandy started her walk to the chapel.

 

-

 

“It's just nerves.” promised Debbie, squeezing Ian's arm.

 

He was standing before a mirror in slim black suit. He was ready, but he couldn't stop fiddling with his green tie.

 

“You're doing the right thing,” added Lip.

 

“Am I?” Ian asked so quietly it was hard to hear.

 

Fi smiled, coming over to her brother. She set down the bouquet she was holding and pulled him into a hug. She drew away, leaving her hands on his shoulders. “When I married Gus...oh, lord. I was a fool for that man. I couldn't put one foot in front of another. I remember standin' there, thinking 'oh, preacher, hurry up before he changes his mind.' Look where it got me. Sometimes that man makes me so mad, I could wring his neck.”

 

“But you still love him.” Ian confirmed.

 

“God knows I do. And only he knows why.”

 

Ian had tears in his eyes. “Fi...I think...I...”

 

“He can give you a life that we never dreamed of,” Lip added.

 

“And he adores you,” Debbie sighed.

 

“He does, doesn't he?” Ian couldn't help but sound insecure.

 

“Well even if he is a New Yorker, at least he's sober,” Lip teased.

 

Ian took steadying breaths. He could do this. The rest of his family began to order themselves, and line up. Ian just kept repeating to himself that he could do this.

 

-

 

Ian and Gus followed the rest of the party. The small chapel was decorated with flowers and ribbons, thanks to Fiona and Debbie's dedication. He had the best sisters in the world. Ian focused on the pews, barely able to bring himself to look at his fiancee. On his side, he saw Kev and Vee with their children. Behind them were a few of his friends from New York, including Kira's brother and sister who had always been kind to him. In the pew behind them sat Mandy. She was smiling, although he guessed that this must be torture for her. She looked stunning in her simple purple dress, and Ian almost wished that he could stop and apologize to her about how much he had fucked things up. They had almost reached the front when the small chapel's doors flew open.

 

In flew the small old man from before. “Mr. McBryan!”

 

“Hey!” that was one of the security guards hired for the wedding. He was followed by another who was chasing after the elderly gentleman.

 

“Mr. McBryan!” he called again, dodging his would-be-captors.

 

“Get him!”

 

“Mr. McBryan!”

 

“Get back here!”

 

“Mr. Buford?” Ian was gobsmacked. Why would his lawyer be here?

 

The two guards caught up to the lawyer and grabbed him. He shook them off immediately. “Get your hands off me.”

 

“Wait, let him go,” Ian said.

 

“Ian?” asked Linus from the front of the church.

 

“You are one hard man to get in touch with,” panted Mr. Buford coming up the aisle.

 

“What are you doing here?” Ian asked slightly under his breath.

 

“He did,” the old man was panting. “You didn't.”

 

“What? You mean I'm still married?” asked Ian.

 

“Well not unless you want to be,” Mr. Buford said, pulling the documents out.

 

“Oh for god's sake, Ian,” sighed Linus shaking his head. “I thought you took care of this.”

 

“It's an honest mistake, Linus,” Ian defended himself.

 

“Well then can we fix it? Now.” Anna Carlisle said from her seat impatiently.

 

“Does anybody have a pen?” asked Ian, panic closing in. “Fi? Gus?”

 

Fiona gave her brother her most sympathetic eyes. “These things don't just happen, you know.”

 

Ian rolled his eyes. This really wasn't what he needed right now.

 

“Can't ride two horses with one ass,” muttered Lip.

 

“Linus,” Ian turned to his fiancee desperately.

 

“You don't want to marry me,” Linus said quietly.

 

“I don't?” Ian asked.

 

“No.” Linus sighed. “No you don't...not really.”

 

Ian's shoulders dropped. He recognized the truth about what the other man said. “You see, the truth is… I gave my heart away a long time ago...my whole heart...and I never really got it back. I can't marry you. And you shouldn't want to marry me.”

 

Linus chuckled a bit, “so this is what this feels like.”

 

His mother stood up. “That's it!? You're just gonna let him humiliate you with some bullshit about an old husband?!”

 

“Yeah, I think I am.” Linus figured it might make a nice pity card in the future, he always liked having a few of those lying around.

 

“Excuse me?” Mayor Carlisle began to make her way up the aisle, towards where the Gallaghers were standing around Ian. “In my entire life I have never met anyone so manipulative, so deceitful! And I'm in politics!”

 

“I'm just trying to be honest,” sighed Ian.

 

“I will not allow the future President of the United States to be dumped at the altar by some psycho ghetto trash! You go after him, you little bitch!”

 

“Wait just a minute, missy,” Gus said stepping in between Ian and the mayor of New York. “Uh, there's no need for name calling, now.”

 

Fi stepped foward to stand by her husband. “Now he spoke his piece, and that's all there is to it.”

 

“Oh go back to your trashy home and fry something,” hissed Mayor Carlisle.

 

“Nobody talks to a Gallagher like that,” Ian fumed. He pushed past his family and punched the mayor in the face.

 

From the pews Kev cried, “praise the lord! Southside rises again!”

 

“Hey Kev,” Ian called back, “mind if we move this to the Alibi?”

 

Kev grinned. “Not at all.”

 

“If you're on my side of the church why don't you head back to the Alibi Room. I'm gonna go find my good for nothing husband!” Ian cried.

 

As Ian headed out, Mandy intercepted him by grabbing his arm. Her smile was so much brighter than before. She whispered in his ear “he's at the dugout.”

 

Ian beamed. God it was good to be back.

 

-

 

“Hey man,” Ian said leaning against the fence by the entrance of the dugout. By the brunet's feet were several cans of beer, all of them untouched. “You owe me a dance.”

 

“Nice suit.” Mickey said refusing to look directly at him. “Where's your husband?”

 

“I'm lookin' at him. Apparently you and I are still married,” Ian said still smiling.

 

Mickey's characteristic grin bloomed on his face. He ran the pad of his thumb across his lower lip. “Is that right?”

 

He looked over at Ian, eyebrow quirked. Ian moved so that he was right in front of Mick. “Why didn't you tell me you came to New York?”

 

“I needed to make somethin' of myself,” confessed Mickey, gazing adoringly into Ian's eyes.

 

“About done?” asked Ian.

 

“What is it about you Southside boys? You can't make the right decisions 'til you tried all the wrong ones?” Mickey asked slowly.

 

“At least I fight for what I want,” Ian said hotly.

 

“Oh, what do you want, Ian?” suddenly Mickey seemed tired, and hesitant. “I don't even think you know.”

 

“You're the first boy I ever kissed, Mickey, and I want you to be the last.”

 

Mickey got up, he brushed past Ian to the exit and the field beyond. “Maybe you and I had our chance.”

 

Ian followed him out. “Fine! Have it your way, you stubborn ass!”

 

All of a sudden the sprinklers came on; rendered completely useless however, as it had begun raining mere minutes before. “Whatcha want to be married to me for, anyhow?” Mickey's voice was rough.

 

Ian took a step forward. “So I can kiss you anytime I want.”

 

He easily closed the distance between them. Mickey's face split into a smile. He pulled Ian to him by his lapels into a kiss. It was their first kiss in years. Ian's fingers curled around Mickey's neck, his lips pressed firmly against Mick's. Mickey opened his mouth, tongue already pushing into Ian's. It was their first kiss in years, but neither of them felt out of practice. All the passion and pining that had occurred in that time made the kiss hot and anxious. Ian held onto Mickey, afraid that if he let go of the other man he would lose him, that he would wake up to find himself in New York...that this was all a dream.

 

“What the hell are you two trying to do get yourselves killed!?” Tony Markovich asked, standing by outfield.

 

“What seems to be the trouble, officer?” asked Ian smile wide upon his face.

 

“I'm here to bring you in, young man.”

 

“What did he do this time,” Mickey said laughing.

 

“Well, the way I hear it, seems he ran out on a perfectly good cake.”

 

-

 

“Look who finally made it to their reception,” Lip mused noting Ian and Mickey's disheveled appearances.

 

“Well I do believe I owe this man a dance,” Mickey said referring to their first wedding.

 

Ian smiled, “you sure do.”

 

Mandy smiled watching her brother and best friend move to the center of the Alibi. She walked over to where Gus' band was standing. “make it a slow one,” she told them. Fi caught her eye with a smile.

 

Everything was as it should be. Ian Gallagher was home, and he was here to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone for their constant support, it means so much to me!!! I would not have been able to do this without all your lovely reviews, they made my day(s). And although this is where the movie ends I would feel so awful changing the rating for this fic without //any// gallavich smut. So there will be an epilogue with sex (lots) I promise as well as just wrapping up any loose ends!!! Leave a kudos or comment, y'all are the best ~T.W.o.W.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost entirely pure smut (sorry not sorry)...y'all have earned this.

Their first wedding night had been a disaster. Mickey had been just about blackout drunk, and after throwing up at Ian's feet, the latter had decided to call it a night. They hadn't had a first dance, or cut their cake, or anything else a couple usually does at their reception. Ian was left to drag an intoxicated Mickey back to the Milkovich residence. By the time they got there, there was nothing to stop Mickey from passing out on the couch, leaving Ian to his own devices. The redhead clearly remembered leaving a bucket and glass of water by his husband before retiring to their bed alone. It had been a long night for the newlyweds leaving Ian bitter and morose.

 

Their second wedding was off to a much better start. After their slow dance, Mickey had taken Ian over to a table of their own and began talking to him earnestly. They spent the whole evening talking, making up for all the lost time. They were only pulled apart when Fi and Mandy demanded to have a brother-sister slow dance, much to both of their chagrin. And after that they were expected to cut the cake. Mickey shoved his own slice at Ian, missing his mouth, smearing his chin with icing. Ian's laughs turned to pants when Mickey insisted on sensually licking it off, to the delight of their friends and family. It was a nice evening, filled with warm wishes and affection. They were sent off in a hailstorm of peanuts as the Alibi, well stocked as it was, lacked rice. They walked home holding hands, both of them sober.

 

As soon as Mickey had unlocked the house and ushered them both in, Ian shoved him up against the wall and began kissing him. His hands roamed the shorter man's body, tugging his dark hair, running up and down his arms and back… Mickey growled, before pushing the redhead into the other wall. Shoes left by the door were tripped over, causing the redhead to fumble and hit the wall hard. Mickey took advantage of Ian's momentary confusion and began to dominate the kiss. He pinned the other man to the wall, allowing him to freely explore Ian's body. He began to suck on the redhead's neck, wanting to mark him as his. Ian moaned heavily as he ground his hips against Mickey's. The brunet's lips were making wet sounds as he sucked harder at Ian's neck and then jaw. His hands slipped under Ian's shirt. Tracing the hard lines of muscle, Mickey let out an appreciative noise.

 

“God, Mick. I need you. Here.” Ian panted out.

 

Mickey pulled away, a smirk on his red lips. “Can't even wait to get to the bedroom? Wow you have become desperate since we were last together, Firecrotch.”

 

Ian groaned. “Fuck, Mickey. Do you ever shut up?”

 

Mickey raised one brow. “Make me.”

 

Ian spun them, so Mickey was pressed up against the wall. He took the brunet's wrists in one hand and held them above Mickey's head. The older man's shirt rode up, exposing his stomach. Ian began to suck at Mickey's neck at the spot where his jaw met his ear. He could feel Mickey squirm under him, his breathing becoming uneven. He pulled away with a smirk, but before he could say anything clever Mickey’s lips were on his own. Ian let his hand drop from where it had been holding Mickey's wrists and began to tug at Mickey's shirt. The brunet understood what was needed instantly, and so he pulled away long enough to take his shirt off. Ian looked appreciatively at the white expanse of skin that had just been revealed to him, and was determined to mark every inch of it. He continued to kiss Mickey, a little less desperately, but his fingers traced over the other’s collarbone and ribs, silkily making their way down to the elastic of his boxers. Using his leg he ground against Mickey's erection enjoying the little moans the brunet released from the back of his throat.

 

“Stop...the...teasing, Firecrotch,” panted Mickey.

 

With a smirk Ian got on his knees and pulled at Mickey's button and fly. In one swift movement Mickey stood completely naked before Ian. Without wasting time Ian took Mickey’s entire length into his mouth and began sucking. Mickey’s eyes fluttered closed, one hand tangling itself in Ian’s short hair.

 

“Oh god,” Mickey moaned.

 

Ian lapped at the pulsing vein, causing shudders to run up Mickey's spine.

 

“I’m not gonna last long,” warned Mickey.

 

“That’s alright, we’ve got the rest of our lives,” Ian said pulling away.

 

“Still, I want you in me,” Mickey panted.

 

“Let’s move things to the bedroom then,” suggested Ian.

 

Mickey nodded and quickly untangled himself from his clothes before following Ian to his room. When he got there he helped Ian with his shirt, pulling it off and letting it fall to the floor. He surged forward, their lips meeting again and enjoyed the feeling of his skin against Ian’s.

 

The first round was hard and fast as if the two of them were making up for lost time. After blindly grabbing lube and a condom from a drawer by his bed, Mickey straddled Ian and rode his cock as fast as the two of them could manage. It was like the old days when they had first gotten together, before their feelings had developed for one another. Ian’s hands held on tightly to Mickey’s hips, bruising the skin. In contrast whereas Ian’s hands were stationary, Mickey’s were roaming across Ian’s chest and arms. With the speed they had set, Mickey knew he wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. The thought made him smile. The room was filled with wet sounds and the moans of two men who knew exactly how to make their bodies sing.

 

In the end, Mickey's prediction came true, neither of them lasted much longer. Mickey came first, his toes curling in ecstasy, with Ian following shortly after. The brunet rolled off his husband panting. The silence was only broken by their heavy breathing. After a minute or so Ian stood and grabbed a warm towel and cleaned them both off. The two men curled together until they managed to catch their breaths. Ian was on his back, looking up at the dark ceiling above them, and Mickey was curled in a c-shape beside him.

 

As Mickey nestled himself closer against Ian’s side, a muscular arm wrapped around him. Their breathing slowed, and Mickey almost thought that perhaps Ian had fallen asleep. He wouldn’t blame the other man. It had been a long, weird day for them both.

 

“I’ve missed you,” Mickey murmured into the crook of Ian’s neck. He then nuzzled himself closer to his husband relishing in the redhead's warmth and smell.

 

He could feel Ian’s chuckle before he heard it. “I missed you too, Mick.”

 

Ian turned on his side to look at Mickey. The love he saw in the brunet's eyes was like coming home all over again. Overwhelmed, Ian put his free hand on Mickey's cheek and kissed him softly. Although the kiss began chastely, it soon became clear that they needed more. Mickey's hands traced all the planes and musculature of Ian’s body as if trying to make up for all the anguish they had caused one another. Ian tangled his hand in Mickey's hair bringing the other man closer to him. The kiss became more demanding, although not nearly as rough as they had been earlier. Each man continued to explore the others’ body, eager to remember what they had forgotten. One hand trailed down Ian’s chest, tracing his abs, before reaching his hip. From there, Mickey followed the line which led him to Ian’s cock. He could feel the other man’s breathing shift, and feel the tension in the redhead's body. He smiled at the thought of being able to so easily read the redhead's mind.

 

Slowly, almost tenderly, Mickey began to pull at Ian’s erection. Ian’s breath caught, and he watched as Mickey carefully pulled him apart. When he couldn’t take it anymore Ian pulled Mickey to him, taking the other man’s lips in his. Mickey happily swallowed each of Ian’s little moans as he brought the redhead closer and closer to orgasm.

 

Ian felt the heat in his stomach grow, until suddenly he came in Mickey's hand. After that it was like all the energy he had had left his body. He lay still in a state of utter euphoria. In the dark, warm room, he struggled to keep his eyes open, but he knew there was something he needed to do, something he wanted to do. He struggled to sit up and reach for Mickey, but the other man was already pulling away to grab the towel.

 

“Let me...Please Mick, I want to...please,” Ian said slurring his words.

 

Mickey gave one of his well known smiles, only softened a little around the edges. “Sleep. Like you said, we’ve got the rest of our lives.”

 

“But-” Ian pouted slightly, his eyelids feeling heavy.

 

“You’re exhausted, you can get even in the morning,” promised Mickey curling back into Ian’s side.

Ian nodded sleepily before pressing a gentle kiss onto Mickey's temple. The two men fell asleep, curled in each others’ arms.

-

Mickey woke up to find Ian pressing hot, needy kisses along his neck and chest. He smiled, opening his eyes slowly. “Well isn’t someone eager.”

 

“I don’t like being in anyone’s debt,” teased Ian between kisses.

 

“Is that so?” Mickey hummed. “And how do you propose you pay that debt?”

 

Without another word, Ian shoved the remainder of the sheets off the bed and crawled on top of Mickey. He began to suck on a bruise from the previous night, happy to hear Mickey panting beneath him. He continued kissing his way down Mickey's chest, paying special attention to his nipples, before making it down between his legs. Ian continued to tease his husband by kissing and nipping at the sensitive flesh of Mickey's thighs all while ignoring his straining cock.

 

“Ian,” panted Mickey. “You’re supposed to be making it up to me, not making me suffer.”

 

Ian just hummed a little, and continued peppering Mickey's thighs with kisses. Mickey felt like he was going to scream, and that’s when Ian swallowed his cock. The redhead didn’t hold back as he practically choked himself on Mickey's dick. One hand was on the brunet's hip in a bruising hold, and the other fondled Mickey's balls. Mickey let out a guttural moan relishing the velvet heat which surrounded his cock.

 

Except for in his dreams Mickey had almost given up ever seeing Ian like this. Lips red as sin straining around his dick, the hot tight feeling of Ian’s mouth engulfing him...Mickey thought he was going to burn. And without warning he came.

 

Ian didn’t seem to mind as he dutifully swallowed Mickey's load.

 

“Fuck.” Even Mickey's favorite word didn’t seem an apt descriptor of what had just happened.

 

Ian pulled a dirty shirt off the floor and used it to clean himself off. He flopped on the bed beside Mickey breathing heavily. “I should probably take my meds.”

 

Mickey looked at him with concern. “Are they at Fi’s? Do you need me to go get them for you?”

 

“Nah, Fiona said she would leave them on the porch in a bag. Said she didn’t want to disturb us in our marital bliss,” laughed Ian. He put on some boxers and left the room. Mickey heard the front door open and close. He could hear Ian humming as he turned on the tap to fill a glass with water, and then Ian returned carrying a brown bag and his glass.

 

“Not the kinda drug deals we’re used to, eh Mick?”

 

Mickey laughed, “I haven’t been a part of that life in a long time, Gallagher.”

 

“It’s Milkovich now,” Ian protested lightly.

 

Mickey looked surprised, “You wanna take my last name? After all my family has fucked up-”

 

Ian finished swallowing the pills before interrupting, “I don’t care about what your family has done. I want to take your last name, Mickey. We’re married after all.”

 

Mickey chuckled rubbing his chin. “So we are. I just figured I ought to take the name Gallagher. You all have always been a close knit bunch...much more of a family than mine.”

 

Ian shrugged. “We can discuss this more later...I have another matter I want to discuss with you.”

 

“Oh?” Mickey raised a brow.

 

“I don’t think you should sell the house.” Ian said plainly.

 

“What?”

 

“I know you spend most of your time Northside now, but we have family here. I want to spend time with them and not have to worry about the commute.” Ian explained.

 

“What about New York?” Mickey asked cautiously.

 

“I’m a writer, Mick. I can do that from anywhere. Sure my agent and publishing team is there...but I think I would only need to fly to see them occasionally. For the most part I can just call or skype them.” Ian shrugged.

 

“I see...”

 

Misinterpreting Mickey's expression Ian hurried on, “but...if you want to sell it for personal reasons...because of what happened here I – well I understand that too...uh do what you need to do...”

 

“Relax, Firecrotch,” Mickey chuckled. “I was mostly thinkin’ of sellin’ cause this house is too big for a bachelor, but now seeing that I’ve got you...and the rest of the Gallagher brood-”

 

“And Yev,” Ian interrupted cheekily.

 

“Yes and Yev...well maybe it wouldn't be so bad living here...’sides I was thinking of expanding Canary Metal Works to New York...it would give me a reason to visit the city with you,” Mickey said haltingly.

 

Ian looked searchingly into Mickey’s face. “Do you really mean that?”

 

“I do.”

 

Ian ran to his husband giving him a kiss. It wasn’t too hard for Mickey to pull the redhead back into bed for another round of sex, either.

-

In the end, Mickey decided to keep the house and he was glad he did. Now that Ian was back in Southside for good it was nearly impossible to keep his siblings away. Nearly every other day when Mickey came home he would find one Gallagher or another visiting with Ian. And if it wasn’t a Gallagher than it was probably his own sister or Kev and Vee with their kids...well point was there was always someone in the house paying them a visit.

 

The newlyweds also worked out an arrangement with Svetlana in which Yevgeny would come and stay with them every few weeks. Initially it took some time to convince the Russian woman that Yev would benefit from living with all three of his parents, but soon it became clear to her that Yev adored his dads and that they adored him too. They were never going to be a perfect family, but they all loved their child and were willing to do whatever was necessary for him to be happy.

 

On days when they weren’t watching Yev, and Mickey could leave the office, and none of the Gallaghers demanded Ian’s attention, Mickey and Ian would head to New York. Ian’s book was a major success, and often he was needed at meetings with his publicist. If not, then he would spend the day with his friends, or with his publisher concocting a new novel as Mickey began meeting with investors so that he might open up a shop in New York.

 

At the end of the day, it didn’t matter what city they were in so long as they were with one another. Both men had finally and deservingly come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done! Sorry this took so long to write, but I haven't been into Shameless for a long time. Then all of a sudden I was feeling a bit nostalgic for this pair, and well...I've been wanting to finish this story for ages. So thank you for being patient and for reading this. I hope you liked it. Feel free to leave any comments below, last thoughts etc. I love hearing from my readers. Sincerely ~T.W.o.W.


End file.
